


Meet Me In The Afterglow

by jsmp_415



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Canonical Character Death, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Good Sibling Merle Dixon, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Past Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Shane Being an Asshole, Slow Burn, Smut, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsmp_415/pseuds/jsmp_415
Summary: After Merle is arrested and sent to prison, Daryl is forced to find a new life for himself. Taking direction on instinct alone he ends up in Gulf Shores, Alabama where he learns to find happiness, friends, and a home he never thought he could have.Being divorced doesn't mean you get the deposit back on your condo. After separating from his wife, Rick Grimes drives down to the gulf alone and falls for the easy, laid back vacation he'd meant to take with his family. So much in fact, he decides to make it a new tradition for himself.Unfortunately, Gulf Shores isn't that big of a town and crossing paths with a person who wronged you in the past could look like a simple coincidence. But when it keeps happening, is it less like a coincidence and more like fate?
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes
Comments: 53
Kudos: 96





	1. 2010

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HelixaHallwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelixaHallwood/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to my good friend HelixaHallwood!!! This is a time jump and enemies to friends to lovers fic; it's also named after a Taylor Swift song, so I hope I hit all the favorite tropes! 
> 
> Couple of things: most importantly, this fic does deal with some police brutality. It is not in any way race related and involves Merle and Shane with Rick as an unfortunate bystander. The incident itself is described after the fact and from Daryl's pov. I started this fic a year ago when such a subject was not quite so in the forefront of our minds, but it is what really moves the plot along. Please feel free to ask questions if something is unclear, but also please remember to be respectful.  
> Secondly, it's not done (hides behind hands) but I am VERY motivated to finish it. I'm going to kick off with two chapters today and hopefully chapter 3 will be posted tomorrow. I will also update the tags as I go and the rating may change.  
> Third, we take this trip every year so I've tried to make it as logistically accurate as possible.

Daryl sat in the courtroom, watching the court appointed lawyer do a shitty job defending his brother and knowing this was it. And damn it if he wasn’t right. Merle had too many run ins with the law and the judge threw the book at him. Possession, intent to sell, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, not to mention all the petty charges thrown in there, as well as the old attempted murder charge he never showed up for and Merle was sentenced to twenty five to life. Daryl hung his head and did his damndest not to cry. He took a deep breath and stood as they took him away. At least the lawyer was good for something and assured Daryl he would get one last meeting with Merle before they took him to the state penitentiary. 

Daryl was led into the room where Merle was chained to a table that was bolted to the floor.

“Thought I told you not to come today,” Merle growled at him. 

“Well excuse the hell outta me for wantin’ to be there fer my brother,” he countered. 

“I told ya a hundred times, baby brother, you ain’t gotta worry bout ol’ Merle,” he said as Daryl sat down across from him. “Now you listen and you listen good boy, I don’t want you coming to the pen to see me.”

“Fuck that-“

“Did I say you could interrupt me, boy?” Merle talked over him, sounding a lot like their old man. But Daryl knew Merle was all bark and no bite, at least where he was concerned. “I mean it Daryl,” Merle continued, “I don’t want you sittin’ around the trailer goin’ to work and waitin’ fer visitin’ days to come see me.”

“But-“

“No buts, baby brother,” he tried to wag his finger at Daryl but when he lifted one hand, the other had to follow. Merle looked at his cuffed wrists and let them fall back to the table. “I ain’t always done right by you. Ain’t always done the best I coulda. But I do know you comin’ once a month to see me ain’t what’s best fer you. So yer gonna listen to ol’ Merle. You listenin’?”

“I’m listenin’ Merle,” Daryl almost whispered. 

“Yer gonna go get outta that trailer. I don’t care how ya do it. Yer gonna pack up what you need, quit that shitty ass job, hop on my bike and just go. I don’t care where you go, just give me a call when you figure it out. I mean it, Daryl,” he said when he saw Daryl was about to argue, “if I find out you didn’t do like I told ya, I’m gonna bust out and beat yer ass fer it. Yer gonna go find some place that has more to offer than this godforsaken hellhole. Yer gonna find yerself a nice fella and get a life.” 

And now Daryl had to actively try not to cry. Merle might not walk the straight and narrow according to the law, but no matter what he’d always supported Daryl. He’d been there to get in between Daryl and their old man’s belt whenever he was in a rage. He’d been there to teach Daryl how to feed himself, whether that was hunting or fixing engines so he could get a job. And he’d been there when Daryl told him he was gay. He didn’t like it, had ranted about it for days, but still stood by Daryl, still loved him and still supported him. 

“Merle,” he choked out.

“The only thing I wanna hear from you right now is yer word that yer gonna do what I say.” He gave Daryl a hard glare.

“I promise, Merle,” he managed to get out. “I promise.”

“Good,” Merle gave him a sharp nod. “Now you get outta here and you let me know whenever you get wherever yer goin’. And don’t think about it too much. Just get on the bike and go.”

~~~

So he did. He did everything Merle told him to do, even though it killed him to do it. There was a part of him that just didn’t think it was right to leave his brother behind. But it was what Merle wanted, what he insisted on. And there was another part of Daryl, the selfish part, that felt a weight leave his shoulders as he drove past the county line. He paid the last month’s rent on the trailer, quit his job with no notice, filled the saddle bags with what he needed and just drove. He did what Merle said and didn’t think about it too much. But there were two things he was decided about: he would stay in the south but he would get out of Georgia.

He drove for days, making decisions on gut feeling alone, stopping when he was tired, eating when he was hungry. He had enough money to make it for a few weeks but he still wanted to make it last as long as possible. He didn’t feel any sense of urgency to get anywhere but there was a want, a need to actually get somewhere. 

When he crossed the state line into Alabama he felt his heart skip a beat. He’d never been out of Georgia before and it was exhilarating. The sheer freedom of it. And he knew he’d be thanking his brother until the day they died for making him do this. 

He kept going south, thinking _Maybe Florida?_ and decided to drive along the coast to get there. He was almost to Beach Blvd in Gulf Shores, just about fifteen minutes from seeing the water, when the bike finally had enough. 

Scared the shit out of him; he barely had enough power to get off the road. Luckily, there was a shopping center and he pulled into the far row of parking spots, walking the bike to a stop. He got off and started poking around the engine and it wasn’t hard to find the problem; the radiator hose was shot. He could fix it in his sleep if he had the tools for it. But as he looked around all he saw was a Target and a bunch of fancy clothing stores. Nothing that would help him, that’s for sure.  
He kept looking at the engine, trying to think his way out of the problem when he heard a voice behind him.

“Hey man, everything ok?” He jolted up and saw a kid in a baseball cap. He looked Asian and Daryl squinted his eyes at the stranger. But he had a kind face and Daryl decided to be honest.

“Been better,” he told the kid, “radiator hose is fried.” He gestured to the bike.

“You from around here?”

“Nah, just passin’ through. I can fix it myself, if I had the tools fer it.”

“I work at a garage,” the kid said, “I can load it up in my truck and take you there.”

“You don’t even know me, kid,” Daryl pointed out.

“Well I do have people waiting on me to bring lunch,” he held up the bag in his hand, “so if you kill me, they’ll come looking for you.”

Daryl chuckled and decided to take a chance. “Ok, sure do appreciate it.”

The kid stuck out his hand, “I’m Glenn, by the way.”

“Daryl,” he said, taking it and getting a good solid shake. 

“Wait here, I’ll bring my truck around.” 

Once Glenn got his truck in the right position, he put a 1x4 against the tailgate in a makeshift ramp and together they pushed the bike into the bed of the truck and strapped it down. 

“You always keep that kinda stuff in your truck?” Daryl asked as he got in the passenger seat.

Glenn shrugged, “Never know when you’re going to need it. Besides, I seem to just pick this shit up at the garage, sticks to me worse than engine grease.”

Daryl chuckled at that. He liked this kid, Glenn. Good sense of humor, good heart. There weren’t a lot of people left in the world who would help a complete stranger and Daryl was grateful.

It only took them ten minutes to get to where Glenn worked, an old, well worn building claiming it to be _Dale’s Garage_. Glenn backed the truck into the furthest bay and they got the bike down and parked it in the middle of it.

“You said you can fix it yourself?” Glenn asked.

“Sure can, just need the parts and tools,” Daryl confirmed.

“Go ahead and help yourself to whatever you need. I’m going to deliver lunch. Dale will probably want to come out and meet you.”

Daryl nodded but didn’t respond and Glenn left him to his own devices. It was soothing, peaceful, and Daryl lost himself in the familiar work. The garage was quiet, the people who worked there, like Glenn, taking their lunch. It was obviously locally owned, but looked like it did a steady business. It was much better than the corporate place Daryl used to work for, doing mostly oil changes for rich housewives. But this, this kind of work was his bread and butter.

“You do good work, son,” a voice interrupted his thoughts when he was almost done.

Daryl stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. Standing behind him, for god only knew how long, was an older man who was a study in contradictions. He had a bucket hat stained and stiff with salt, a beach shirt covered in grease, what looked like swim trunks that went past his knees and sandals with socks on that definitely weren’t safe in a garage.

“Dale Horvath,” the man stuck his hand out, “owner, operator.”

“Daryl Dixon,” he shook his hand.

“Where’d you learn?” He nodded to the bike.

“My brother taught me,” Daryl answered.

“You only work on motorcycles?”

“No sir,” he made sure to mind his manners, “can just about fix anything with an engine.”

“Glenn said you were just passing through. Where you headed?”

Daryl shrugged. “Anywhere? Nowhere? Just hopped on the bike and started driving.”

“Where you from?”

“King County, Georgia.”

“You’re not running from the law are you, son?”

“No sir. I don’t even have a record,” he wasn’t sure why he just offered the information, but he wanted to be clear about his relationship with the law. He might not like it, but he wasn’t his brother and he always toed the line. 

“Well, if you’re looking for a job, I’m looking to hire someone and you definitely know what you’re doing. So what do you say, son? You want a job?”

It was like a sign, a giant billboard, flashing and screaming and Daryl knew he’d be an idiot to ignore it. 

“I sure do, sir.”

“Well then, consider yourself hired.” He clapped Daryl on the back and pulled him into the office where he introduced him to the only employee Daryl hadn’t met yet. T-Dog, as he introduced himself, was the complete opposite of Glenn. He was a beefy, bald African American man who had a good handshake and a kind smile. The three of them made quite the trio, Daryl thought to himself. 

Dale had him filling out paperwork for almost an hour. It was even more exhausting than the actual work he was going to do. At one point, a plate with a sandwich appeared on the paper Daryl was about to sign and he barely had time to look up to argue before Dale shook a finger at him.

“Eat,” he ordered and Daryl knew he’d lose the argument. 

He started that afternoon and learned, observed, and worked with Glenn and T-Dog before Dale closed up at six. Glenn and T-Dog left in their respective trucks and he was just about to hop on the bike, which was good as new, when Dale stopped him.

“You got a place to stay tonight, son?”

“I was just going to find a cheap motel or something until I can get a place.”

“No sense in wasting your money. I have a spare room that you’re welcome to.”

“I don’t want charity,” Daryl tried to not sound so defensive but it was hard not to.

“Well then, how about you come stay with me and fix my garbage disposal and if you haven’t found anything by next week, you can start paying rent.”

Dale stared at him while Daryl considered it. He wasn’t overly happy about it but Dale had given him a job, taken a chance when it might be stupid for anyone else. 

And once again, Daryl wasn’t going to waste it, wasn’t going to be able to turn the old man down.

“Ok then,” he held out his hand and they shook on it.


	2. 2011

Rick Grimes drove over the Georgia state line and did his best to keep it together, did everything he could to keep the tears from rolling down his face, but it did no good. The tears came anyway and eventually he had to pull over, took the first exit he could find, parked the car on the backwoods highway, and let himself cry. It was just so damned unfair. All he wanted was to spend time with his son and Lori just had to take that away, along with everything else.

The petty part of him was glad that Carl was unhappy about the situation too. He knew that once Carl got to camp, he’d have the time of his life. But he also knew he’d complain about it, just as much as Rick had and there was something satisfying about that.

Rick had planned this trip almost a year ago. When he was trying to save his marriage. Before everything happened. Before he caught his wife and his best friend fucking each other. Before he moved out. Before he filed for divorce. Before everything. And even though the divorce was finalized and he had a new partner at work, he couldn’t get a refund on the condo he rented. 

So he dried his eyes, put the car in drive and got back on the interstate to get to Gulf Shores.

The rest of the drive passed without incident and he made it in record time. There was no Carl asking if they were there yet every five minutes or complaining that he was hungry. There was no Lori telling him to stop every twenty minutes so she could go to the bathroom or complaining about his driving. He checked into the condo, which was a corner unit on the nineteenth floor and the view was absolutely spectacular. The sound of the waves was soothing and the breeze tickled his hair. He leaned against the rail on the balcony thinking of everything and nothing until the sun went down.

He stayed the full week and found a perspective he didn’t even realize he was looking for. It had been such a long tumultuous year, he found the solitude relaxing. By his second day he established a routine. His first step was to get on the beach early and snag a good chair, he quickly struck up a friendship with the guy who rented the chairs and umbrellas and got his pick of the litter. He spent the morning alternating between lounging in the chair and swimming in the ocean. For lunch, he would run to Sea ‘n’ Suds for a fish sandwich; the girl learned his order by his third visit. He would spend the rest of the day lounging on the beach, then around 5 o’clock, he’d go back to the condo, take a shower, dress, and go out on the town. He’d never been on Trip Advisor so much, but any restaurant or activity that was highly recommended, he did it. 

There were many times that he wished he had Carl with him, but other than that it was a fantastic trip. So great, in fact, that after he went through the automated check out, Rick called the owner up and booked the same condo during the same week for the next three years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that Rick's first chapter was so short, but I promise there will be more soon.   
> Just a little fyi, each chapter takes place during the same week each year, I wrote it with mid-July in mind.  
> Tomorrow: chapter 3!


	3. 2012

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens and we learn about Merle's arrest and just how much of an ass Shane is.

On Sunday evening, Daryl pulled the old beat up Chevy into its spot under the house, grabbed the grocery bags, and hopped out. He didn’t bother locking it before he climbed the stairs and opened the kitchen door.

“Hey Dale!” He called out, “I’m home! They didn’t have that ice cream you wanted,” he said as he started shoving the freezer meals and sandwich meat in their proper spots.

“That’s ok,” he heard Dale behind him, “I probably don’t need it anyway.”

“You watchin’ your figure now?” Daryl smirked and he knew Dale could hear it even if he couldn’t see it.

“Maybe I am,” Dale said slowly. 

“That’d be a first,” Daryl snorted.

“Well if you can kick the cigarettes I can kick the ice cream right?” 

Daryl finished putting the groceries up. “I still ain’t quit and you damn well know it.”

“Oh well then, in that case I don’t have to quit the ice cream.”

“You’re a sneaky sonofabitch.”

“If I had a nickle,” Dale rolled his eyes and didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Daryl told him on almost a weekly basis that he was sneaky but it was all said with a smile. Daryl had been working for and living with Dale for two years now. Probably the best years of his life. Which he’d stopped saying to Merle long ago because that asshole always took the credit for it. But Daryl smiled as he thought of his brother. They talked once a week and he made sure Merle was doing ok and staying out of trouble. Not that Merle would tell him if he was in trouble; he was adamant about Daryl not worrying about him. So he tried and succeeded most of the time.

It was a good life, living down on the beach. He had a job he loved, a safe place to stay. He actually had friends now. Dale was probably his best friend, even if it was in almost a father-like way. But he was just as close to Glenn and T-Dog. At first, he was afraid he’d get sick of them both, but soon they were hanging out after work, going to get a beer at a quiet bar. Sometimes they’d go to the beach on the weekends, always enjoying it more when the tourism died down a bit. He got to know T-Dog’s sister, Jacqui, who made sure they actually ate something healthy from time to time and always encouraged Daryl to quit smoking. The mothering was something he had a hard time getting used to at first, but after a while, it was more endearing than anything.

After the groceries were put away and the general ribbing concluded, Dale made them a quick dinner and they ate it while watching reruns of MASH. It was a good life, Daryl thought, reclining against the couch as the evening wore on. His routine was down, his bike pristine, he actually had a little money in savings now, thanks to living with Dale. He had no desire to change anything about the new, happy life he was finally living.

~~~

The next morning was a typical Monday, tourists in a bad mood, regulars who thought they should take priority, even T-Dog was on edge and he was zen as fuck in Daryl’s opinion. And god he wished Glenn would be the same way. Kid was dropping tools, slipping in oil puddles, just generally making a colossal mess of himself. But Daryl took it in stride, sneaking a smoke break when he could, getting Glenn to actually calm down over their lunch break. And somehow, the four of them made it through the day. Even Dale, who looked like he was five minutes from cracking open that whiskey bottle Daryl knew he had hidden in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet. 

It was just past closing time, only Daryl and Dale left, when an old, pale yellow Jeep Cherokee Chief Edition sputtered into their parking lot.

“Aw Christ,” Dale spat. “Go tell ‘em we’re closed, will ya son?”

“You got it old man,” Daryl snarked back at him.

He heard his boss yell, “Then you’re makin’ dinner tonight, since I’m too old to cook it!” But he ignored it and closed the door behind him, chuckling to himself as he walked. 

He wasn’t quite paying attention to the person getting out of the car, too caught up in his and Dale’s antics, until he was almost nose to nose with the man. And when he saw who was standing there, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide enough to hurt. He knew that face anywhere. 

Rick Grimes tilted his head in that way that he’d seen in a courtroom whenever he was considering a question from a damn lawyer. “Do I know you?”

“You fuckin’ sonuvabitch,” Daryl managed to get out before he pulled back and decked the officer right in the jaw. It was enough to send the man sprawling to the pavement. “That’s fer my brother, you lyin’ piece a shit!”

Grimes stayed down, rubbing his jaw with his hand and working it open gingerly to test the joint. Daryl took the time to shake his hand out; his knuckle was busted and he thought something might have been broken but he didn’t give a damn. Grimes broke the silence that had really only lasted a few seconds.

“Shit… you’re- you’re Merle Dixon’s brother.”

“Nice to know you remember the name of the man’s life you and your asshole partner ruined.” 

Because Daryl did. Daryl remembered it all. Rick Grimes, the uppity bastard and his smartass partner, Shane Walsh had been the ones to pull Merle over, for the bullshit excuse of driving with an expired tag. They ran the plate, Walsh tried to search Merle, with no warrant and of course his brother said no, cause he had everything to hide. Walsh threw a punch and Merle punched back, ran, was tackled, put in a chokehold, and searched against his will. And of course they found the drugs and the money. And Daryl knew it was only a matter of time before Merle was caught for good, but he also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Walsh punched first and the system did shit all about and his brother got put away for the rest of his life. 

The testimony was what sealed the deal. Cause that motherfucker told the court that Merle swung first. And Grimes _backed him up_. Got up on the witness stand and told the jury that Walsh had to do it in self defense. No jury was going to believe the word of an ex con with a rap sheet a mile wide over the word of two cops. But he believed his brother, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Daryl heard the sounds of slapping footsteps and knew Dale was running out to see what was going on but he just couldn’t care. He stood over Grimes, daring him to get back up. But to his utter surprise the man stayed down there. He dropped his head into his hand, hiding his eyes.

“Look at me!” Daryl ordered him and the man shook his head twice before actually doing it.

“I deserved that,” he rasped.

“What’s going on here?” Dale finally made it to them, wheezing a bit. 

“Clumsy me,” Grimes interjected, “fell gettin’ out of the damn car.” Daryl took a step back and let him get to his feet. Grimes looked at Daryl with apologetic eyes before turning Dale. “I’m having some trouble with the Jeep. I know y’all are closed, but I was hoping to leave it and see if you could look at it tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Dale answered evenly, “let’s take a look.” He walked over to Daryl and stopped at his shoulder. “I got this. Go home, we’ll talk later.”

For once, Daryl wasn’t going to argue. He jumped on his bike and left, his hand protesting the whole way home. When he got there, he bypassed everything else, went straight to the balcony, and lit a cigarette. He had to hold it with his left hand. He just knew he had a broken knuckle in his right one; Grimes had a really hard head. 

He saw Dale drive up, heard him come into the house. But he took his sweet time getting to Daryl and when he did, he plopped an old school bag of ice on his hand.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about? Cause I know damn well that man did not fall out of his truck.”

“Asshole’s the reason my brother got put away,” he answered before taking another drag.

“Maybe you better start at the beginning,” Dale responded, cracking open a beer and putting it on the rail in front of him.

So he did. Everything that happened, every truth, no embellishments, up to the moment Grimes said that he deserved the punch.

For once Dale was pretty speechless, staring at Daryl open mouthed until he snapped out of it and took a swig of his own beer. “That’s one hell of a coincidence,” he stated once he swallowed.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Well… as your boss I cannot condone that.” He paused for half a beat. “As your friend, I say… good punch.” Daryl turned, surprised to hear him say that. “What? I can compartmentalize.”

Daryl huffed out a laugh and shook his head a bit, leaned on the rail and stared out to where he knew the ocean to be. “I shouldn’t’ve hit him,” he admitted. “Merle gettin’ arrested was prob’ly the best thing to ever happen to me. Got me out of that godforsaken town, away from that dead end job. But damn it Dale, seeing him just reminded me of losing my brother.”

Dale clapped him on the back. “You’ve got every right to be mad.”

“Yeah and you’ve got every right to fire my ass. I shouldn’t have done it on company property. I’m sorry for that.”

“I’m not gonna fire you, Daryl,” he rolled his eyes.

Daryl gave him an appraising look. “Yeah? So what are you gonna do?”

“Just… politely suggest that you take tomorrow off.”

He huffed again. “An unpaid day off I’m assuming?”

“Hey, you suggested it, not me,” Dale held his hands up in surrender.

“I deserve a lot more,” he responded before looking up at the man who gave him a home when he had none. A friend when there was none to be found. A purpose when he was lost. “Thank you, Dale.”

“You’re a good man, Daryl. Now get in that kitchen and make me some dinner will ya? My poor old heart just can’t handle that much stress.”

Daryl rolled his eyes with a huge smile on his face and pushed Dale’s shoulder before walking inside to start on their meal.


	4. 2013

Rick didn’t make it a habit of visiting the state penitentiary, but when he was getting ready for his, now annual, beach trip, Merle Dixon and his brother weighed heavily on his mind. He never found out the man’s name, which made the weight even heavier. He went to the garage the day after the sock to the jaw, but Dixon wasn’t there and he was afraid to ask. He’d gone about his regular vacation schedule after that, but the younger man’s face was on a constant loop in his mind. 

From the furious glare of his eyes as he’d stood over Rick, to the defeated slump of his shoulders all those years ago in the courtroom, to the soft look he gave the old man who also worked at the garage. Rick found himself thinking about that look more than any of the others. And by the end of the week, he was wishing that look had been directed at him instead. But he forced himself to stay away and at the end of the week, he went back to Senoia and the daily grind of his monotonous life.

But Merle Dixon and his little brother crept back through his mind when he least expected it and by the time July rolled around and his trip was only a week away, they were at the forefront of it. So with just one day left before he made the familiar drive back to the Gulf, he drove out to the state penitentiary and met with the man he helped put away for the rest of his life.

Even though he hadn’t requested it, the prison guards took him to a private interrogation room where Merle was already waiting, handcuffed to the table.

“Well, well, well, Officer Friendly,” Merle greeted when Ricked walked through the door, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Rick didn’t say anything at first, instead focusing on sitting down and making himself comfortable in the chair. Really, he was just trying to buy himself some time before he had to speak. He hadn’t exactly planned this, just went with the urge to go see the man and not question his motives too much. It was something he’d been able to do more after the divorce; go with his gut and not overthink every little goddamn move he made. It helped to not give himself a chance to second guess his decisions. Lori had done that enough. So he opened his mouth and just went with it.

“I, uh, I met your brother… last summer.”

Merle smirked and huffed a small laugh. “Yeah he told me you came to the shop. He’s worried you’d uh… try to make things difficult for me in here after he knocked you on your ass.”

“Nah,” Rick shook his head and looked away for just a second to give himself a reprieve. “I’ve already done enough damage.”

Now Merle scoffed at him. “Man, you really think that, yer dumber than I am. Daryl knock you stupid er somethin’?”

“Daryl is your brother?” Dixon gave him a look. “We didn’t… exactly exchange pleasantries before-”

“Before he knocked you on your ass,” he finished.

“You really like saying that.”

“It paints a nice picture,” Merle admitted. 

Rick waited for several heartbeats, letting the silence stretch on until he finally said what he needed to say. “I’m sorry, Merle. I’m sorry for lying in my testimony and making things worse for you.”

“Psssh, you didn’t make things any worse than they were already gonna be.”

“Even so-“

“Even so nothin’,” Merle cut him off. “You wanna feel guilty? I cain’t stop you, but even I know you lyin’ to the judge waddan’t yer idea.” He gave Rick a meaningful look and Rick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped. “You still friends with that prick?”

“Not after I caught him fuckin’ my wife.”

“Well shit fire, I guess karma really is a bitch.”

“Damn straight,” Rick chuckled with just a bit of self deprecation.

“Look here, Friendly,” Merle got serious and that was the only thing that stopped Rick from rolling his eyes, “I ain’t saying it’s all been sunshine and roses in here. But I’m clean now and I stay outta trouble fer the most part. But more important than any a that is that my baby brother is outta that fuckin’ town, away from that shithole job. He’s happy and that’s all I give a damn about. If it took me gettin’ put away fer that ta happen,” he shrugged, “then oh well, ya get me?”

Rick looked the man across from him in complete wonder. He wished that he could be so at peace in his own life. And Merle was in prison for chrissake. “I get ya, Merle. I still hate what I did, but I get ya.”

“You wanna lose sleep over that, be my fuckin’ guest. But don’t you go feelin’ sorry fer me or fer Daryl. We don’t want yer pity and we sure as hell don’t need it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rick replied with a little half smile. And to his surprise Merle returned it with a huge toothy grin.

“Yer all right, Friendly,” he said decidedly, “now get outta here. You got better things to do than hang around this dump.”

~~~

After Rick checked into the condo, he drove straight to _Dale’s Garage_ , catching them right at closing time. He was in luck this time because as soon as he pulled up, Daryl was walking out and he was alone. His hair was longer than it had been last year but nothing else had changed. Rick felt a pang low in his gut when he laid eyes on the lean man but he ignored it in favor of the task at hand. But that was especially hard to do when Daryl’s blue eyes met his, even though they narrowed in anger. Rick didn’t take another step forward, wanting to keep enough space between them just in case.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, suspicion coloring his tone.

“Just wanted to talk,” Rick answered as he held his hands up in surrender, or a quick defense if fists started flying.

“Bout what?”

“I went to see your brother,” he stated baldly.

“Merle? When?”

“Yesterday,” Rick was quick to respond.

“Why?” Daryl demanded to know but Rick couldn’t reply with a simple answer.

He sighed and then before he could stop himself, asked, “Can we talk? Maybe somewhere I can buy you a beer?” He waited with baited breath while Daryl considered his offer. 

“Mk,” he finally said with a succinct nod of his head. “I gotta lock up. You ok to follow me?” He gestured to the motorcycle on the other end of the deserted, tiny parking lot.

“No problem,” he replied, trying to hold in his enthusiasm. He wanted to make everything right and this was the next step he had to take. But more than that, he wanted to get to know the brother that toed the line, the one that stood up for his brother, the one whose brother did what was best for him.

Rick got into his Jeep, the same one that was so troublesome the year before, and followed Daryl as the other man pulled out of the repair shop and onto the parkway. They only drove for a little over five minutes, towards Beach Boulevard, until Daryl turned down a small street in front of a beat up looking wooden building. Daryl parked his bike and Rick followed suit with the Jeep. He got out quickly and couldn’t help but stare at the other man as he got off his bike. Daryl was slim and graceful, perfectly at home in his surroundings. Rick wished he could be that confident in himself, but ever since Lori and Shane… his self worth took a definite blow.

But he was pulled from his deprecation when Daryl gestured with his head to follow him. Rick did as he was bid and tried his hardest not to stare. Instead, he focused on the flight of stairs they were ascending and their location when they stopped. It was a unassuming glass door that looked like it had seen better days. The paint on it was peeling and faded but it announced the establishment as _The Port in the Storm_.

“We call it ‘The Port’,” Daryl told him as he opened the door. “Not many people know it’s here.” Rick followed him inside to find a dark, grubby bar. An attractive man with barely tamed curls and a kind smile stood behind the bar.

“Evenin’ Daryl,” he called but his eyes widened a bit when he saw Rick.

“Aaron,” Daryl greeted with what even Rick could tell was a small warning. “Two of the Fairhopes, please.”

“Comin’ up,” the man answered but Daryl never stopped moving, just continued on to a booth in the back, furthest from the door. They sat down on either side of the table and didn’t say anything to each other for some time. Aaron came with their beers and seemed to want to say something but thought better of it before running off and leaving them alone again. Daryl picked up the glass of amber liquid and took a sip.

“S a long way from King County for you to show up just to have a conversation.”

“I come down here every year,” Rick answered, jumping at the chance of an easy topic. “This is my third year, same week, stay at the same condo-“

“Aren’t you just predictable,” Daryl interrupted sarcastically and Rick blushed. They both sipped at their beer to pass the awkward moment between them. Rick was surprised when he found that he liked it. “So,” Daryl broke the silence, but wouldn’t look up from the glass between his hands, “do you also make a tradition of going to see criminals you helped put away?”

Rick did his best not to show any reaction, but he was surprised at hearing Daryl describe his brother that way. He had expected a vehement defense of Merle, one that disregarded his every mistake. It seemed he was the one mistaken. He must not have been as successful as he thought with his poker face; after a beat of silence, Daryl looked up at him and sighed.

“I ain’t a idiot,” he said, “I know what Merle’s done and I’ll never deny it otherwise. But all you and that prick of a partner of yers sees is a dumb felon. That ain’t what I see.”

“What do you see?” Rick had to know.

“I see a man who kept comin’ up short, but kept tryin’ anyway. Someone who stood between me and our ol’ man whenever he was in a drunken rage. Someone who didn’t know how, but did the best he could to raise me. Who finally made me take care of myself, when I was ready to be miserable for the rest of my life just to stay close to him. Merle saw that waddn’t important and he wanted me to be happy. He all but kicked my ass outta Georgia and did it chained to a table, cause he knew I wouldn’t leave and wasn’t gonna let me get away with that shit.” Daryl lifted his glass and took a long pull of his beer. When he sat the glass back down, Rick saw that his glare returned and his eyes held every accusation in the world. “But it don’t matter what I see. What mattered was that two asshole cops saw what they wanted to see. And some of it was right. But not all of it. And that makes what you and yer partner did all kinds a wrong.”

Rick couldn’t speak, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was focus on not bursting into tears, an action he never did before the divorce, because he didn’t think it would be appreciated by the hurt man across from him. Instead, he dropped his head into his right hand and tried to take a few deep breaths but he could tell how his shoulders shuddered with the effort. He tried again but with the same results. He intended to take yet another when he felt a warm hand touch his that had been resting on the table. He jerked his head up to see Daryl looking at him, all judgments gone and replaced with a kindness he hadn’t seen in another person’s eyes in a long time.

“Yer tryin’ to make it right ain’t cha?” He asked softly.

“Yes,” the word came out strangled and a tear he couldn’t stop slid down his cheek. He swiped at it angrily. “I deserved every bit of that punch you threw at me last year-”

“Yeah, you said so,” Daryl interrupted with a chuckle.

“And I kept thinking about. All year really. Until I stopped fighting the urge and went to see Merle and apologize.”

“Bet yer partner loved that.”

Rock scoffed. “Shane and I aren’t partners anymore. Not long after Merle’s trial, I caught him and my wife in bed. So I got a new partner at work, mostly for Shane’s protection.”

“Fuck, man,” Daryl breathed out, squeezing Rick’s hand slightly before letting go. For whatever crazy reason, Rick wanted to reach across the table and pull it back. But it was one gut instinct he decided to fight for the moment. “I’m sorry. You and she work it out?” The question was compassionate, not just for curiosity’s sake.

“Nah. We’d had problems for a long time, Shane was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“I’m sorry, Grimes. Seriously.”

“Please,” he corrected him, “call me Rick.”

“Rick,” he answered, giving him an appraising look before holding his hand out over the table. “‘M Daryl Dixon.”

Rick took the hand and shook it, happier than he should have been to be touching the man again. “It’s nice to meet you, Daryl.”

“Nice to meet you too, Rick.”

They spent an hour together in that booth at the bar, getting to know each other easily. He asked questions about Daryl’s life in Gulf Shores and in turn offered details of his own, telling him about his job, his son, his crappy apartment. Daryl was an excellent audience. He listened intently and laughed often at Rick’s terrible jokes and sarcastic comments. It was easy, comfortable in a way Rick hadn’t experienced in a long time. It helped that Daryl was so easy on the eyes, but once again he pushed that aside and convinced himself this wasn’t a date, even though he did insist on paying for his and Daryl’s drinks. 

Before they parted ways, Daryl made sure to tell him of a few spots not all the tourists knew about or paid attention to and Rick made a note of them all on his phone, much to Daryl’s amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't going to post today, but I finished chapter 6, so I thought a celebration was in order. Thank you to everyone who's commented and left kudos! 
> 
> The Port in the Storm, along with Dale's Garage are some of the few places that are not real and entirely made up for this story. The beer they drink in this chapter, however, is real and is from Fairhope Brewery in Fairhope, AL.
> 
> I am not sure when chapter 5 will be posted yet, but when it is, please be on the lookout for updated tags.


	5. 2014, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check updated tags. Character Death is NOT Rick or Daryl.
> 
> I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry

Daryl sat on the beach, looking at the waves but not really seeing them. It had been a helluva week and it honestly wasn’t looking any better. God he wanted a cigarette. But he promised Dale and dammit he was going to keep that promise. Now more than ever. 

He propped his elbows on his raised knees and dropped his head, resting his hands on the back of his neck. It was all just too much and he was angry, so angry. But he didn’t want to be.

The Gulf was the place he’d found peace four years ago. But that had a lot to do with Dale taking him in and showing him a life. And now Dale was gone and Daryl was afraid that he’d taken that peace with him. He didn’t know how to live down here without Dale; he didn’t even know where to start. 

“Daryl?” An surprised voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up. Standing in front of him, wearing only wet swimming trunks was Rick Grimes. 

“Rick,” he greeted in return, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. 

“You ok?”

Daryl had to look away from the concern in the blue eyes; he was afraid it might just break him. “I’ve been better,” he finally allowed. “Yearly trip?”

“Yeah. You look like shit,” Rick replied gently as he sat down in the sand next to him. 

Daryl snorted in sick amusement, or tried to at least. Even to his own ears it sounds more like a broken sob. He stared out at the waves, turning darker as the sun set behind them. “You remember when you brought your Jeep in that year? And there was an old guy at the shop with me?”

“Sure. Bucket hat, wore socks with his sandals, I think.”

Daryl laughed a little hysterically. “Yeah, yeah that was Dale alright.”

“Was?” Rick asked the question like he already knew where it was going.

“He died last week.”

“Oh Daryl. I’m so sorry.” Daryl felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder and fought everything that was in him to not turn into it and just let it all go. All the grief, the stress, the uncertainty. “You were close?”

Daryl nodded, trying to swallow against the lump in his throat. But it didn’t help. He opened his mouth to say that he lived with Dale but instead the broken wail he’d been trying so hard to hold in burst out and he buried his head in his hands and sobbed. Rick’s hand didn’t move from his shoulder, like he assumed it would. Instead, it pulled until Daryl went with it and fell against the chest of Rick Grimes. The gesture just made it worse and Daryl let go, something he hadn’t done since Dale took his last breath, not even with Glenn and T-Dog. 

Daryl lost time, crying until there were no more tears. He knew they were on the beach, surrounded by people who were probably giving them strange looks, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Rick’s arms were strong and comforting, solid in a way that nothing else was. He was the last person Daryl ever thought would hold him up when he was falling. But he did. Rick didn’t say anything, didn’t ask for an explanation, didn’t try to get Daryl to stop. He just rocked him slightly, gently, and ran his hand up and down Daryl’s back in a soothing way. He held Daryl and never gave any indication that he would stop before Daryl was ready to pull away.

By the time Daryl did finally stop crying, the sun had sunk low behind them and the stars were starting to pop out in the dark sky. He lifted his head and got caught in Rick’s blue eyed stare. He knew he looked awful; he always thought of himself as an “ugly crier,” but Rick didn’t say anything. He just looked at him, like he was trying to find all the answers in the world.

“Sorry,” Daryl rasped out, completely embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Rick responded as he loosened his arms and let Daryl pull away. A little frown line appeared on his forehead and Daryl had a crazy thought that he was reluctant to let go, but he pushed it away. They moved apart and Daryl wiped his face free of tears.

“God you must think I’m such a fuckin’ wimp.”

“The first year I came down here,” Rick started telling him, looking him dead in the eye, “was right after the divorce was finalized. I had to pull over halfway here so I could just bawl my eyes out in the car. You’re not a wimp, Daryl, and you’re not weak. Pain demands to be felt.”

Daryl’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “Dude, did you just quote The Fault in Our Stars to me?”

“I paraphrased. And what the hell you judgin’ me for, anyway?” Rick asked with mock indignation, “You immediately knew where that was from.”

Daryl chuckled and fell backwards into the sand. “Yep,” he replied, popping the p, “and I cried like a baby when I finished that book too.”

“Look,” Rick said, starting and stopping a few times before he continued, “I know you don’t know me well. Hell, you probably still hate my guts. But if you need to talk, I’ll listen.”

“I don’t hate your guts,” Daryl intoned, “maybe a toe,” he grinned and Rick laughed a little bit. Daryl took a deep breath, staring at the night sky. “Dale took me in when no one else would. Gave me a job, a place to live without even knowing me. Wouldn’t even let me pay rent. That was just the type of person Dale was. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few months ago.” He took another breath, this one much less steady than the last. “God, Rick, he went downhill so fast. He got so weak and the treatments weren’t working. I was at the hospital with him more than I was home. His wife died, jeez ten years ago? They didn’t have kids. Dale’s life was that repair shop and he took care of me, Glenn, and T like we were his fuckin’ kids. And now he’s gone,” he brought his hands up and pressed them to the top of his head, “and I don’t know what to do. I got nowhere else to go. I been here five years, I got friends, settled ya know? I don’t want to live anywhere else. I just don’t know what to do now.”

Rick didn’t say anything for a few moments and when he did speak, it was to ask a question. “Glenn and… T?”

“T-Dog,” Daryl clarified. “And Glenn. I work with them. Dale hired T first, back when he opened the shop and then Glenn few years later I guess. Glenn was the one that found me, broke down in a shopping center on the parkway, but Dale was the reason I stayed. He took us all in like we were orphans or somethin’,” he chuckled a bit. Rick was quiet at that but Daryl could feel his stare. He brought his hands down and rubbed roughly at his face. “I don’t wanna go home,” he admitted. Home was where Dale should be and would never be again. 

“Do you need to go home?” Rick asked, taking Daryl by surprise.

“Probably,” he admitted. “I haven’t been back ever since…” he trailed off, unable to say the words out loud, but Rick understood. 

“Where’ve you been stayin’?” He asked with concern.

“Cheap hotel off the parkway. Dale would kick my ass fer it but… I didn’t wanna go back alone.”

“What about Glenna and T-Dog? They can’t go with you?”

“They got their own shit, ya know? They’re dealin’ with their grief too. I didn’t want to ask that of them. It’s hard enough bein’ at the shop without him.” He dropped his hands to his side and dug his fingers in the sand. A moment later, a warm calloused hand curled over his own and squeezed gently.

“You gotta go home, Daryl,” Rick told him, a soft yet somehow gruff command.

“What if it’s not home fer much longer?” He spoke his biggest fear out loud in barely a whisper, terrified of speaking it into existence.

“You just worry bout that bridge if you walk up to it. Don’t go borrowin’ trouble,” Rick answered, wisely. “Focus on the here and now,” he continued and then stood up, “and right now, you need to go home.” Rick offered his hand and pulled Daryl to his feet. He was going to protest and repeat that he couldn’t do it, not alone, but Rick cut him off “How far is it from here?” And suddenly he realized he didn’t have to go alone. 

He wanted to argue, to say that Rick didn’t have to do that but when he opened his mouth, he said, “Too far to walk.”

Rick tilted his head a bit. “How’d you get here?”

“I walked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone for all the great comments! Part 2 coming tomorrow.


	6. 2014, Part 2

Rick guided Daryl into his condo with a flush of embarrassment. He definitely wasn’t expecting guests but then he firmly reminded himself that Daryl probably didn’t care. The poor man was grieving and Rick was going to help him no matter what. 

“I’ll just be a second,” he said after the door shut, “sorry about the mess,” he added sheepishly. Daryl just nodded with a lost look on his face and Rick ducked into the bedroom and closed the door almost all the way, cracking it just a bit so he could hear.

_Life is strange_ , he thought as he got dressed. He went back through his memories of every time he encountered Daryl Dixon and how their meetings were vastly different each time. He wasn’t really one to believe in fate, but after being a cop for so long he didn’t believe in coincidences either. _Well, former cop_ , he amended silently.

He sighed. When he drove down to the beach this year, his thoughts were entirely on Daryl Dixon. They occasionally shifted to Merle, since he was the linchpin in this whole crazy scenario. But it was mostly Daryl he thought of. He had planned on going to the repair shop on his second day, asking to take him out for another beer, and just seeing where things went. He wanted to tell him what he tried to do for Merle, wanted to prove that he was trying his damnedest to make amends for his mistakes. But now, he reasoned as he put on proper shorts and a polo shirt, was definitely not the time. 

He grabbed his wallet and keys and went back out to the main area of the condo to find Daryl still standing where he’d left him. He walked up to him, careful to make his footsteps as loud as possible so he didn’t startle him. He stopped next to him and brushed the back of Daryl’s hand with the knuckles of his own.

“You don’t have to do this,” Daryl whispered.

“Yeah I do,” Rick replied immediately and Daryl turned to him with wide blue eyes. And without stopping to question his reasons, he slowly moved his hand and laced their fingers together in a gentle hand hold. Daryl looked down briefly and then looked back up at him. “I’ll drive, you guide me there. Ok?”

“Ok, Hazel Grace,” he said with the smallest smile in the world, but Rick couldn’t help his own smile from growing so much it hurt. He jerked his head and then led the way out of the condo, to the elevator, and then to his jeep. He only let go so that Daryl could hop up in the passenger seat. He got in and started the car. Before he could pull out of the spot, Daryl broke his silence.

“You remember the restaurant I told you about? The Beach House?”

“Oh yeah,” he answered, “I went and was actually planning to go back tomorrow.”

“Head that way,” Daryl responded, watching out the window. “Dale’s house is almost behind it. We eat there a lot.” He paused, long enough to realize what he said. “Ate,” he corrected.

Rick wasn’t sure what the correct response was to that. He got the distinct impression that Daryl wouldn’t appreciate pity but he wanted to say something. So he settled on something somewhat neutral. “I went everywhere you recommended last year, actually,” 

“Oh yeah?”

Rick nodded, “I went to the donut place twice.”

Daryl chuckled at that and Rick felt relieved for some reason; that even when the man felt horrible he was still able to tease a smile from him. They didn’t talk after that. Traffic was ridiculous and Rick had to swerve to avoid being hit by some 4Runner from Ohio who had no idea where they were going. After ten minutes of driving at a crawl, he finally saw the sign for the restaurant.

“Turn here,” Daryl instructed softly. Rick did as he was told. “Left at the stop sign.” He turned and saw a short street full of massive houses all crammed tightly together. “It’s the little green one at the end of the road on the right.” 

It only took a few seconds of driving before Rick saw the house Daryl was talking about. It was only one story, after taking into account the stilts that all houses near the beach had, and much more modest than any of the others on the street. It was green, like Daryl had said, but it looked more lived in that a lot of the larger houses. Rick knew most of those houses were only rentals, but this was obviously a full time home. He parked in front of it, since there was an old Chevy parked under it, and cut the engine, but Daryl didn’t get out yet. 

“It’s gonna look like shit,” he said to Rick’s surprise. “I haven’t been back since he… since he’s… been gone. And before.” He paused for a long time. “I was basically living at the hospital with him. I barely went to work. I maybe came home to shower? That last month is such a blur. There could be things growin’ in the fridge fer all I know.” He dropped his head into his hand and Rick couldn’t stop himself from putting a hand on his shoulder again.

“It doesn’t matter to me, what the place looks like. I’m still a bachelor. My own place back home looks so awful, my teenage son complains about it.”

That made Daryl look up. “I didn’t know you had a son.”

“I didn’t mention Carl last year?”

“I don’t think so,” Daryl shook his head, as though to clear it. “I remember you tellin’ me about your wife though.” 

“Huh,” Rick replied, _so eloquently_ , he thought. He didn’t know what to say other than that and the silence hung in the car like a tangible, expanding monster, and god Rick wanted to say something.

“Guess I better get out of the car and actually do this,” Daryl announced, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness. He opened the door of the Jeep like he was going into battle and Rick followed him at, what he hoped was, a respectable distance. They climbed the stairs and Daryl opened the door without unlocking it. 

They crossed the threshold, one after the other, and all Rick could focus on was how normal it all looked. It reminded him of his own apartment back in King County. It wasn’t clean per se, but it wasn’t disgusting either. Some dirty dishes sat in the sink; he could see a few forgotten clothes were strewn on the floor; and some unfortunate dead plants sat in the window sill. But that was about it. He wished that Daryl hadn’t worried about what he would think of the place but when the other man took a shuddering breath, Rick realized that he had so much else to worry about.

Whereas Rick only saw the objects around the house for what they physically were, Daryl saw what they represented. Or rather, who they represented and the fact that he was no longer there. 

He was able to close the door behind him, but just barely. Daryl hadn’t moved any further into the house and soon Rick realized why. He took a small step around him so that he was at Daryl’s side, looked up at his face and saw his gaze trained on a small table by the couch. There was an old school answering machine on it, and the red light was blinking, indicating a message.

“No one’s ever left a message before,” Daryl spoke softly. “He wouldn’t ever get rid of it, but everyone always called me.” He walked over to it mechanically and pressed the button.

The loud beep Rick hadn’t heard in years resounded through the room and then a woman’s voice spoke.

_“Mr. Dixon, this is Andrea Harrison. We’ve been trying to reach you. In accordance to his wishes, Dale’s will will be read tomorrow. He requested that you, Mr. Rhee, and Mr. Douglas be present. I’ve already spoken with them both and we agreed on ten a.m. tomorrow. If this time works for you, please let me know.”_ There was a pause and Rick could hear her take a breath. _“This was something Dale really wanted… for all three of you. He was… very adamant that you all be there at the same time. I would really appreciate it if you would call me to confirm tomorrow. Please give me a call no matter how late it is.”_ She rattled off a number and the message ended with another loud beep. 

Daryl was leaning over the machine while it played, hands gripping the edge of the table hard enough that Rick could see them turn white. But when the message ended, the man let go as though the table shocked him. He dug his phone out of his pocket, an archaic thing that flipped open, and then he sat heavily on the ground. 

A little chime announced that Daryl turned the phone on. He looked at the phone intently, pressed some buttons, and frowned even further, which Rick didn’t actually think was possible. He dialed and then put the phone up to his ear.

“Ms. Harrison?” He said politely. “This is Daryl, sorry you couldn’t getahold of me.” He listened for second. “Yeah I can be there tomorrow. Ten a.m. Yeah. Thanks.” He snapped the phone closed and threw it on the floor before propping his elbows up on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. 

He looked so lost, so heartbroken, Rick couldn’t stop himself from walking over and easing himself down on the floor next to him.

“They’ve been trying to call me all day. Had my phone off. Glenn and T-Dog are flippin’ their shit tryin’ to find me.”

“Do you need to call them?”

“Probably,” he answered as he straightened and his head thunked back against the couch. “Chirst, I didn’t even know Dale had a fuckin’ will.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Rick was a little surprised at that, considering how close they seemed to be.

“Nope. But if it’s something he didn’t do until after his diagnosis, I kinda get it. There just waddn’t a lot a time, ya know? But still… he shoulda told me,” he finished bitterly. 

Grief was a difficult thing, Rick realized as he watched Daryl clench his fists against his knees. Anger and sadness and the reminders of happy memories that were now tainted all swirling around in the mind vying for the top spot with no reprieve. Add to it, all the uncertainty Daryl was feeling, Rick knew it had to be enough to drive a man nuts.

“Do you drink?” He asked before he could stop himself. He knew that wasn’t the way to deal with your problems but sometimes a man just needed a drink.

“Yeah,” Daryl turned his head and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You call Glenn and T-Dog back and I’m gonna go get beer and something to eat. Any preferences?”

He looked for a second like he was going to argue but then realized it wouldn’t be worth it. “I’m good with anything, as long as it don’t got a palm tree on the bottle,” he instructed instead.

Rick chuckled and stood up. “You got it.”

~~~

It only took him half an hour to get his hands on a case of Fairhope American Blonde, a half pint of Jack Daniels, and two large pizzas. When he got back to the little green house, it was to find a drastically different setting. Every light in the house was on and he could hear music coming from inside. He barely made it up the stairs with his hands so full and couldn’t even knock on the door; he had to kick it. Daryl came running and opened it to let him in. The first thing he noticed, after Daryl took the pizzas from him, was that it was much cleaner than when he’d left it. The dishes had been washed and put away, and all the clothes had been picked up. He sat the beer and whiskey down on the counter, just as Daryl sat the pizzas down beside them. 

“Shit, man, I didn’t realize you were gonna get that much.”

“Better be safe than sorry. I figured it might be a good night to get wasted. I… I’ve never had anyone that close to me die. My parents are still alive and I never really knew my grandparents. But when the divorce with Lori finally went through, I spent three days in a drunken rage and then another two in the bathroom floor of my new apartment. I didn’t even have any furniture yet.”

“Lori’s yer ex?” He asked for clarification. 

“Yeah,” he answered as he opened the case of beer. “I don’t have to see her too much anymore, just to pick up Carl here and there. But even then, we try to plan it so we don’t actually have to see each other.”

“How yer kid deal with that?”

Rick snorted before he cracked open a can of the already cold beer. Daryl reached into a cabinet, almost automatically and grabbed two pint glasses. “Carl asked if we were getting divorced before I could even get the words out. I spent most of that conversation with my mouth hanging open and my eyes buggin’ outta my head.” 

“Smart kid,” he nodded seriously before a mischievous smirk graced his lips, “guess he didn’t get that from you.”

Rick laughed, loud and hard, like he hadn’t in a long time. He shook his head while he caught his breath. “I walked into that one, didn’t I?”

“With open arms,” Daryl answered as he grabbed a second beer and together they poured them into their respective glasses. 

“I’d hate to admit it, but he probably got it from his mother,” Rick replied in a teasing tone but Daryl suddenly turned serious.

“Nah,” he reasoned with a one-shouldered shrug, “she sounds pretty dumb to me. Cause if she was real smart she wouldn’ta let you go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beach House is a real restaurant and the street that Daryl's house is on is also real. The house itself does exist, just not in that location.
> 
> Part 3 coming tomorrow!


	7. 2014, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be my last post for at least two days. I'm in the middle of writing chapter 8 and it's proving to be a long one. Hope everyone enjoys Part 3. Thank you for all the great comments!

Daryl was drunk. Daryl couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drunk. But here he was, sitting on the deck with Rick Grimes, who was just as drunk as he was. It was sometime after midnight, he thought. The pizza was long gone. So was the beer and they’d just cracked open the whiskey bottle. It was also hot outside and Rick had used that as an excuse to take his shirt off. It was very distracting. 

They had been swapping stories for the last few hours, sharing details of their lives that they hadn’t the year before. The more they talked, the closer they got and Daryl knew he was staring at the other man, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Cause it was just the booze talking. Right? Yeah, he told himself, just the booze talking. 

But it was nice, to be able to talk to someone and not fall apart like he had earlier. Rick had seen him at his worst, but he still stuck around and things were definitely more cheerful. After listening to Rick tell stories about his son, Carl, Daryl started talking about Dale. And it was easy, so much easier than he thought it would be. Maybe it was the liquor. Maybe it was Rick. Maybe it was Southern summer nights. No, that’s from a song. He shook his head; maybe he needed to stop drinking.

But he took another sip of whiskey anyway. That last sip warmed him to his core and he passed the bottle to Rick, wanting to share that warm, fuzzy feeling. He watched Rick’s neck as he swallowed, his throat moving beautifully and Daryl had the sudden urge to reach over and lick over his Adam’s apple. Before he could do something so monumentally stupid, Rick put the bottle on the deck and then leaned over and down, down, down, until his head rested on Daryl’s thigh. He rolled over onto his back and looked up with a soft expression on his face.

“Tell me about your brother,” he ordered quietly.

Daryl lifted his hand and ran his fingers through Rick’s curls before he could even begin to question what in the hell he was doing. “What d’you wanna know?”

“Hmm, that feels nice,” Rick closed his eyes and pushed into the touch. “Tell me…” his forehead wrinkled as he searched for a topic, “about a time he got you outta trouble.”

Daryl laughed long and hard at the insinuation; they may not have known each other for long, but Rick already knew that out of the two of them, Daryl was usually the one saving Merle’s ass. It took him a while, but he managed to come up with a memory from when he was thirteen, involving a grocery store and the live chicken he’d stolen from a neighbor to release inside of it so he could steal some food while everyone was distracted.

“And a’course I got caught, but Merle managed to convince the store manager that the chicken was his and had been in the saddlebag of his bike, while I told the idiot I’s just headed for the checkout line,” he finished, laughing his head off and Rick laughing right along with him, so hard there were tears pouring down his face. 

“You two could wreck utter mayhem, if you wanted to,” he said while he tried to get his breathing back under control.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, “we’re a pair alright. Diff’rent as night and day, but still a pair.” He took another gulp of whiskey, the bottle was almost gone now. He set it back down on the deck beside Rick, just in case the man wanted the last little bit. The silence settled around them comfortably and Daryl was just about to comment on the weather when Rick ripped the rug out from under him.

“I tried to get him out,” he spoke in the darkness, his words slurring a bit.

It took Daryl an embarrassing amount of time before he could focus on Rick’s words. “What?”

“Merle,” he explained, but Daryl was confused even further. “After I got back last year, I went to the DA, the judge, even the parole board. Told ‘em all what I did, what really happened.”

“You did what?” Daryl whispered, barely daring to believe it. “But Merle… he never said-”

“Fuckin’ assholes,” Rick interrupted him, “told me ta keep my mouth shut and forget about it. But I didn’t. Kept at it, buggin’ the shit outta them. Took forever and my fuckin’ job, but I got em to agree to put Merle up for parole in five years. He might not get approved but it’s the first step at least.”

Daryl looked down at him, his mouth and eyes wide open. He couldn’t have heard Rick correctly. He just couldn’t have. “Wh-what do you mean ‘yer job’?”

“Hmm?” Rick’s eyes were unfocused for a minute before he looked back up at Daryl. “Oh well, I bugged em all so much, they threatened to fire me. So I threatened to take it to the press. Lots a threats, back and forth, back and forth,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “we finally came to a understandin’. They couldn’t actually fire me, so they gave me a desk job and I get to speak on Merle’s behalf to the parole board. Don’t know how much good it’ll do, he’s gotta actually behave ya know, but I’mma do my best.”

“Rick,” Daryl breathed, “I don’t know what to say. You-you… you did that for my brother?”

“And for you,” Rick added in a whisper. “I wanted to do it for you, Daryl.”

Daryl was stunned stupid for a second. This man barely knew him, helped ruin his brother’s life, and now, after all this time, he was trying to make it right. And if that didn’t tell him everything he needed to know about Rick Grimes, then nothing would.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he managed to get out, the words feeling too big for his tongue, but Rick didn’t miss a beat.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, reaching up to cup Daryl’s jaw. Rick’s hand didn’t pull, because Daryl was already on his way down. He merely guided him until their lips met and Daryl could do exactly as he’d asked.

~~~

A loud, persistent blaring noise was ringing in Daryl’s ear when he regained consciousness. He pulled his head up slowly; it was heavy and the movement was not good for his stomach. But as soon as he moved, something under him groaned and he jerked his eyes back down, which made the room spin. But he stared long enough and hard enough and everything stopped spinning and Rick Grimes, whose body was completely under his, came into focus.

“Ugggggh,” Rick groaned again, “turn it off.” He raised an arm and flapped his hand in the direction of the sound. Daryl followed it with just his head, or so he thought. Until he realized his whole body was moving toward his room and he rolled off of Rick, and subsequently off the couch, and onto the floor.

“Son of a biiiiitch,” he moaned after he hit the floor, flat on his back. He laid there, unable to move for several moments and took stock of himself. First, he realized he was severely hung over. Second, that alarm was his usual one, meaning it was only seven a.m. and he had three hours before he had to be at the lawyers office. Which it might actually take him that long to get from where he was at that moment to where he was supposed to be. Third, he realized he was shirtless. Fourth, and probably most disgusting of the tally, he was still in his shorts, but they were… sticky. “What the fuck happened last night?”

“Turn that damn thing off and maybe I’ll remember,” Rick grumbled. Daryl rolled again, confident now that he was as far down as he could possibly go, and was able to get on all fours. He tried to stand and walk at the same time, but he stumbled so much he just decided to stay on the floor. 

It took forever, or at least it felt that way, before he finally got to his room and turned his alarm clock off. And it only took him one try, thank you very much.

“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna puke,” he said.

“If yer gonna, can you hurry up? I’m next,” Rick called.

True to prediction, Daryl took the bathroom while Rick took the kitchen sink. After that unpleasantness was over, Daryl thoroughly brushed his teeth and he could hear Rick figuring out the coffee pot. 

“Do you have a spare toothbrush?” Rick’s voice was close behind him and he turned around just in time to see the other man looking down his pants. “And uh, maybe some extra clothes I could borrow?” He looked up and grinned sheepishly. The toothbrush fell from Daryl’s mouth when he saw the side of Rick’s neck covered in quite a few purple bruises.

“Rick, what-” but before he could even finish his sentence, it all came flooding back: kissing Rick on the deck; moving into the house and kissing Rick inside; Rick frantically ripping his shirt off and his hands mapping every inch of Daryl’s chest while he attacked Rick’s neck with hard, obviously bruising nips. He remembered them falling to the couch trying to devour each other and then rutting against each other like a couple of ridiculous teenagers. He barely remembered coming like that and then there’s nothing. He assumed he must have passed out and he guessed that Rick did exactly the same, judging by the stain in his pants and the fact they woke up stacked together on the couch. 

“Hey,” Rick stepped forward and reached for him, concerned. Daryl knew shock and maybe even a little fear was covering his face. “None of that,” he instructed softly, his hand making gentle contact with Daryl’s jaw. “Last night was amazing.”

“I thought you were straight,” he choked out.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the p and grinning like the damn cat that got the cream. “Yer not the first guy I been with, Daryl.” He winked at him and Daryl felt a blush creep down his neck. “Surprised?”

“A little,” he allowed. “How’d you know I was-”

“I don’t like to assume things of people,” Rick explained. “But when I got home, I searched for ‘The Port,’ you know people talk about things like the only “unofficial” gay bar in Gulf Shores. That kinda gave you away.”

“You’re just basically an adult boy scout, ain’tcha?” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Rick chuckled, but stepped even closer and dropped both hands to Daryl’s hips. “I don’t regret last night. I hate the circumstances, hate that you’re hurting. But everything else? I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“God, me too, Rick.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really?”

“Really.” But then he sighed as the weight of the day started to settle on him. “I gotta lot to do today though.”

“I know,” Rick replied with all the understanding in the world. Daryl could feel him rubbing soothing circles across his hips. “There’s no pressure, Daryl. Just tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

Rick huffed and rolled his eyes fondly, “I will.” He leaned up and kissed Daryl’s forehead. “There’s plenty more where that came from but I promise you, you want me to brush my teeth before I properly kiss you.”

Daryl threw his head back and laughed, pulling away from that firm grasp reluctantly so that he could dig in the cabinet under the sink for a new toothbrush. He found one and presented it with a flourish. “I’ll go get you some clothes,” he said and left Rick to his own devices.

He found some gym shorts he thought might fit and a tshirt, but he was mostly operating on auto-pilot. His mind was bouncing all over the place, like a pinball in a machine operated by a crazy kid who just kept hitting the buttons. This newfound information about Rick Grimes was just too much to process when it was combined with his grief over Dale. But he tried to force it all down; if he could just get through the appointment with the lawyer then maybe he could try to figure the rest of it out. Yeah, he thought, one thing at a time.

He gave Rick the clothes and then kicked him out of the bathroom so he could take a quick shower. Once they were both somewhat clean, Rick dropped him off at the motel where his bike was.

“You sure you wanna…” Rick started and then stopped before Daryl got out of the Jeep, “if you wanted company today-”

“Thanks,” Daryl replied sincerely, “but I think this is something I gotta do on my own. And Glenn and T-Dog will be there so…” he trailed off. 

“Can I at least get your number? Maybe we could do dinner or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “that’d be… yeah.” Daryl rubbed the back of his neck which he was sure was a deep shade of red. A date. He’d just been asked out on a date. 

He hadn’t been on a date in so long, he couldn’t even remember. But first things first, he reminded himself. He had to figure out what the hell was so special about Dale’s will.

~~~

Daryl spent the first five minutes in Andrea Harrison’s office being fussed at by Glenn and T-Dog, for worrying them and not answering his phone. He mumbled a bunch of “sorry’s” and they settled around the big, shiny conference table. As soon as they were ready, Andrea walked in with a large folder, all business. Daryl had met her a few times over the years. She handled the legal side of Dale’s business and though he’d never admit it, he found the woman absolutely terrifying. She sat at the head of the table and opened the folder.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” she started, “as I told all of you on the phone, this is about Dale’s will-”

“I didn’t even realize Dale had a will,” Glenn interrupted nervously.

“Well, he always had one,” she explained, “but after… his diagnosis, he gave me a call and we updated it, along with all the other paperwork that I’ll explain in a minute. But first, Dale wanted each of you to have these.” She stood and walked around the table, handing each of them a small envelope. Daryl’s was last and he looked down to see his name written in Dale’s scraggly handwriting on the front of the sealed envelope. He ripped it open, could hear T-Dog and Glenn doing the same with their own, and pulled the paper out to read. 

_Dear Daryl,  
If you’re reading this, then things didn’t go the way I wanted them to and I’m sorry for that. I’m sure your pissed at me and that’s ok, I’m pretty pissed at me too. But I hope that passes with time.   
I wanted you to know, that these past years have been some of the best of this old man’s life. I never realized that when I hired you and asked you to move in, that I’d be gaining a son. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stick around for longer, but I’m thankful for the time you were in my life.  
I know you found a home here, just like I did all those years ago when I moved to the Gulf, so that’s what I’m leaving you. I wanted to make sure you always had a home, a place you could call your own. The house and the truck is yours. Both of them are paid off, so you won’t have to worry about that. Andrea has all the paperwork. The deed is already in your name, you just need to sign. If you really want to sell it, I won’t be mad. But if you do decide to keep it, make it your own. Get rid of all my old shit and do what you want. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. You deserve that, Daryl. Don’t ever forget it.  
Love,  
Dale_

Daryl finished reading the letter and then had to read it again, just to make sure the tears streaming out of his eyes didn’t distort any of the words. But no. There it was all in black and white. Dale left him his house. Gave him a home for the rest of his life. And gave him permission to make it his home. It was the greatest gift Dale could have ever given him and Daryl thought long ago that he’d already done that. When he finished reading it a second time, he looked up and saw Glenn and T-Dog crying their eyes out too.

“What’d he leave you?” Glenn choked out.

“The house. And the truck,” Daryl barely managed to get out. “You?”

“His wife’s engagement ring. For Maggie,” he put his hand over his mouth to try and keep his composure but he wasn’t very successful. Maggie was Glenn’s girlfriend of two years and they all knew Glenn wanted to propose. But he hadn’t been able to afford a ring yet. He’d been saving up for months, but something always happened that depleted his savings. Glenn was too proud to ask her without a ring, so he’d been putting it off. But now, Dale gave him the only thing he needed to finally get down on one knee.

“Glenn, that’s amazing,” Daryl said to be supportive. “T?”

T-Dog didn’t answer at first, just sat there with one hand resting on his mouth, the other holding the letter. “He left me the business,” he whispered. 

“What?” Glenn asked in awe.

“The shop, all of it. As long as I keep you two jokers on staff.”

Daryl chuckled weakly at that and Glenn smiled. He may be gone, Daryl thought, but Dale was still taking care of all of them.

“I’ve got paperwork for Daryl and Theodore to sign, and Glenn, I’ve got the key to the safe deposit box, where the ring is.” And she set out the key and two sets of papers to them to sign.

After everything was in the correct names, the three of them parted ways with the promise of returning to work the next day for business as usual. Daryl drove home on his bike in a daze. Home. He had a home. It was always home, more than any place he’d ever lived in Georgia. And now it was his and his alone. 

He walked up the steps and stood in the doorway, taking it all in. The couch where they watched tv, the deck where they would sit and drink beer together. But there was also a new memory, even if it was a bit fuzzy. A memory of that couch, but with him and Rick kissing each other like they didn’t need air to breathe. Of the deck, where Rick laid his head in Daryl’s lap and looked perfectly content.

Dale was right, he realized. It would always be the place where he used to be and that was ok. Because now Daryl would make it his own. There were a few things he’d change, sure, but Dale’s presence would still be there, just in the background watching over him like he always had. He didn’t have to be afraid of change. He had everything he needed right in front of him. Well, almost everything. He smiled and dug his phone out of his pocket and typed out a text.

_Dinner tonight? 7?_ And sent it to Rick.

Unfortunately, Rick never replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
> 
> The song line that Daryl thinks about is from Maybe it was Memphis by Pam Tillis.


	8. 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff hanger from the last chapter, hopefully this resolves it a little bit, try not to hate on Rick too much. Also, if you're a fan of Lori's this chapter is not for you.

Rick almost cancelled his reservation that year. It was a near thing. The day before his trip he stared at the phone. And stared and stared and stared. But he couldn’t do it. Not with Carl bouncing around his apartment packing everything in sight. Because that year, Carl put his foot down and refused to go to camp. And Lori was too tired of the yearly argument and gave in. To make matters worse, or better in Carl’s opinion, Rick just took him to get his learner’s permit so he was going to let him drive down there a bit, teach him how to drive on the interstate and all that. 

So, as terrified as Rick was to go back, he couldn’t do that to Carl. He tried to hide it from his son, but even he didn’t think he was that clever. It was his own fault anyway. If he’d just replied to Daryl’s text, he wouldn’t be scared shitless to go down to his favorite spot in the south. He might even be anxious and excited to get down there. Hell, he might have spent the past year texting and talking to Daryl, getting to know him, teasing him, missing him. Well that last one he was doing anyway. But instead of the other two, he was left staring at his phone at the one text message he couldn’t bring himself to delete. 

He should have just replied, he told himself for the millionth time as he and Carl drove down to the beach. If he’d replied, he could have taken Daryl out on the date he’d promised him. They could have spent the rest of the week together, repeating kisses from that night. And maybe even more. But what was done was done and it was time for Rick to confront the consequences, whatever that may be.

Honestly, he couldn’t say what scared him more: seeing Daryl and having to explain himself, or not seeing the man at all and knowing he truly missed his shot. But it was not the time to berate himself, like he’d been doing for the past year. Now was the time, he reasoned, to get Carl to pull the car over and let Rick drive before his son killed them both. 

“You drive like your mom,” Rick said as he walked around to the driver’s side on shaky legs.

“Daaad!” Carl exclaimed. “That’s below the belt.” They both closed the doors and buckled up. Rick chuckled at his son and pulled back onto the highway. Carl looked up at him through his bangs. “Am I really as bad as mom?”

“Nah,” Rick told him, not wanting to hurt his confidence. “Just don’t tell her I said that, ok buddy?”

“I don’t tell mom anything,” Carl admitted with more heat than Rick would have liked.

Rick looked at him, but he was looking resolutely out the window. “You wanna elaborate a little bit on that for me?”

“She doesn’t listen to me anyway. The only reason she even let me come was cause she was tired of me complaining about going to camp.”

“She said that to you?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sadly. “She and Shane are fighting all the time and I just don’t want to be there anymore.” Then he turned and looked at Rick, who took his eyes off the rode every few seconds to look at his son. “Can I come live with you, dad? Please. I don’t want to be there anymore,” he said a second time and it cut through Rick like the sharpest knife. 

He looked back to the rode and took a deep breath. “I can’t promise you anything, Carl. I wish I could, but it’s not just my call. I can promise you that I will do everything I can to convince your mom to let you come live with me. Even if we have to go back to court over it. I promise you, I’ll try.”

Carl exhaled, “Thanks, dad. I’m sorry to put that on you, but-”

“Hey, none of that. You’re not puttin’ anything on me. You’re my son and I don’t like that you’re unhappy. If anything, I wish you had told me sooner.”

“I didn’t know how, dad.”

And Rick understood that more than anything. Not knowing the right words to say or how to say them, questioning everything that popped into your head or came out of your mouth. Carl was his son after all and Rick understood.

He sighed, “I know.”

~~~

“Dammit Lori, can you just not be a petty bitch for half a second and understand the fact that our son is unhappy?” Rick yelled into the phone a few hours later. They got to the condo a little after 5, unpacked for the week, and Rick sent Carl down to the beach to scout out a good spot for the morning. As soon as Carl was out the door, Rick called Lori and it had been a screaming match from the moment he relayed Carl’s request. And Rick was tired of it. He lost what little composure he had. 

After his outburst she was quiet on the other end; he’d never been so forceful with her before, even while they were married. He took a deep breath and tried again, but even he could hear the steel edge in his voice.

“Lori, you may hate me and want to punish me until the end of time. But this isn’t about me, you, us, Shane, or your goddamn life plan. This is about Carl and the fact that he doesn’t want to live with you anymore. I don’t know what’s going on with you and Shane and to be honest, I don’t really give a shit. What I do care about is the way it affects Carl. If he wants to come and live with me, then he should be free to make that choice. But so help me, Lori, if you fight this, I will take you back to court and fight for full custody. You may not care enough to fight for our son anymore, but I sure as hell do.”

Again, there was silence. Rick hoped the rest of the conversation would be civil and he stepped out on the balcony. He could see Carl’s dark head as he sat on the beach, looking at the waves. There wasn’t a whole lot of people left and his son seemed content to just sit in the sand. A shuddering breath in the phone pulled Rick’s attention away from Carl and then his ex wife spoke.

“Ok,” she said in a small voice.

“Really?” He couldn’t hide his surprise no matter how hard he tried. 

She took another breath. “If he’s really that unhappy… can we just… flip the arrangement. I want to see my son at least every once in awhile.”

“I think that sounds fine. But I want to make it official. We can contact the lawyers when Carl and I get back.”

“Sure, Rick,” she sounded so defeated, but Rick couldn’t make himself care too much. He was watching Carl again. There was a man near him, trying to fly a kite and doing very poorly. He saw Carl laughing goodnaturedly and gesture to the kite in the sand. Rick guessed he was offering to help the man. “I guess you’ll want to move his stuff then too,” her voice pulled his focus away again.

“Yeah, I want him settled before school.”

“Ok, then. I hope you have a good trip,” she sounded like she was trying not to cry.

“Thank you, Lori. I’m sorry. I just want to do what’s best for Carl.”

“I know. And he’s… he’s not wrong… about me and Shane. I think it would be better for him to be with you.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that that he hadn’t said already, so he settled on, “I’ll let you know when we get back.”

“Bye, Rick.”

“Bye, Lori.” He pushed the end button, pocketed his phone, and leaned on the rail to watch his son for just a minute. Carl was holding the string of the kite now and the man was most likely cheering him on. Even from all the way up there, Rick could see the smile on Carl’s face. But then he started focusing on the man standing a little away from his son. A man who, Rick realized, looked disconcertingly familiar.

~~~

By the time Rick got off the boardwalk, his heart was pounding, but he didn’t run. He spotted Carl and the man as soon as he crested the little hill of the boardwalk. Carl was still holding the kite and laughing happily. The man was smiling, laughing, and shouting encouragements to him over the wind.

Rick couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t ready for it, but he couldn’t make his feet stop either.

“Daryl?” He asked when he got close enough, just as he had the year before. Daryl whirled around and looked at him with wide eyes and Carl pulled his gaze from the kite when he heard Rick’s voice.

“Dad!”

“Rick?”

Carl looked confused, Daryl suspicious, and Rick was gaping like a fish out of water. The kite plunged to the ground, thankfully between Carl and Daryl, avoiding anyone else walking on the beach. Daryl looked from Rick then to Carl and then back to Rick again. 

“I can see it now,” he spoke to cut the stunned silence, then he turned away from Rick. “You must be Carl.”

“Uh, yeah? Dad what’s goin’ on?”

“Carl, this is my friend, Daryl. We… hung out on the beach last year.”

Daryl turned his neck a bit and Rick could see his narrowed eyes. “Friend,” he muttered, like the word offended him. 

“Carl,” Rick looked at his son with desperate eyes, “why don’t you go back to the condo and change for dinner and we’ll go out tonight.”

Now it was Carl’s turn to be suspicious, but he nodded. “Ok, see you in a few, dad.”

Both men watched him go, neither saying a word until he reached the boardwalk. 

“He’s good kid,” Daryl said, looking back towards the condo. “Didn’t realize who he was till you came out here.”

“This is the first time he’s gotten to come with me.”

“That’s good,” he nodded a little absently, like he couldn’t help himself, “hope y’all have a good trip,” he said as he started to walk away, a clear dismissal.

“Daryl, wait!” Rick reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him. Daryl looked down but made no move to get away. “I’m sorry. I should have text you back-”

“Oh so you did get the message? I don’t know what’s worse, Rick, thinking for the past year you never got it and didn’t even care enough to at least check on me, or knowing that you did get it and you were too much of a asshole to follow through on a promised date. Let go a me,” he wrenched his hand out of Rick’s.

“Daryl please.” He ran in front of him. “I wanted to go on a date with you, I swear I did, but… but…”

“But what?” 

“I was scared,” Rick blurted out. Daryl opened his mouth but Rick cut him off. “It’s no excuse, I know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about how complicated it all is. I arrested your brother for chrissake, and we just… coincidentally run into each other-”

“You don’t believe in coincidence,” Daryl interrupted and Rick gaped at him.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember all of it, Rick,” he replied, looking down at the sand and Rick knew they were both thinking of all those things they’d told each other on that wooden deck, sharing a bottle of whiskey.

“I didn’t want to make things anymore complicated than they already were. You were grieving. You live here. I live there,” they all sounded like weak excuses but they were the ones he gave himself a year ago and he owed it to Daryl to be honest with him. “I just,” he ran his hands through his curls, “I convinced myself you were better off without the complications of a divorcee with a teenage son who lives five hours away.”

“Don’t you think I get a say in convincing you one way or another? Don’t you think if I didn’t want the damn date, I wouldn’ta text you in the first place?” He shook his head, but then looked back up and smirked. “You think yer that good, Grimes? That one date woulda had me fallin’ head over heels fer ya and beggin’ you to stay here?”

“I think I would have been the one beggin’ to stay.” 

Daryl shook his head again as his smirk turned into a full smile. “Now I do hate chyour guts.”

“Guess I’ll have to try to get it back down to just a toe.”

“You think you’re up for it, Grimes?”

“You bet I am. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

~~~

Rick and Carl sat the restaurant Carl had picked for dinner that night, looking over the menu. Well, Carl was looking. Rick was sweating. He hadn’t stopped since he left Daryl on the beach with the solemn oath that he would call later. His mind was running in circles, trying to figure out a way to tell Carl everything he needed to tell him. God, it was going to be a long meal. The waiter came and took their order. Rick just got the same thing Carl did and hoped for the best, took a fortifying sip of his beer, and then a deep breath.

“So I talked to your mom,” he hedged, deciding this was actually more important for Carl to know.

“Yeah?” He immediately brightened.

“And you’re going to move in with me when we get back from the beach.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Rick confirmed, “It wasn’t easy, not gonna lie to ya, bud. But your mom agreed to flip the arrangement. So full time with me, but every other weekend and Wednesday nights with her. We’re gonna go to the lawyer’s office when we get back and sign it officially, and she said you could move in with me immediately. My apartment’s a little small for the both of us full time, but we can always find another place-”

“Dad,” Carl stopped him, “I like your place. I don’t wanna move. It’s perfect.”

“You sure?”

“Definitely,” Carl paused for a second and took a deep breath. “Thank you, dad. Really.”

Rick reached over and ruffled his hair before Carl pulled his head away and batted at his hand. The waiter brought an appetizer Rick hadn’t realized Carl ordered but they dug in and the conversation lulled for a bit.

“So,” Carl broke the silence while Rick took a sip of beer, “what’s up with you and Daryl?”

Rick swallowed his beer too fast and it went down the wrong way and he barely had time to sit the glass down before he had a coughing fit. His face turned blood red and he thumped his chest several times before he finally got his breath back.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?” He rasped out while Carl smirked at him.

“So there is somethin’ goin’ on.”

“Not… exactly.”

“But you want there to be,” Carl responded knowingly.

Rick dropped his head into his hand. “Are we ever going to have a conversation where you don’t already know what I’m about to say?”

“Maybe one day,” Carl chuckled. Rick looked up and saw the biggest smile on his face.

“Are you ok with this? I don’t think your mom even knows that I’m… also attracted to men.”

“You’re bisexual, dad, first step is actually saying it out loud. And yeah, of course I am. You haven’t been with anyone since mom. You should be happy,” he finished like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Rick couldn’t say anything around the lump in his throat. People who said kids didn’t know anything about the world forgot what it was like to look through such innocent eyes. Coming from Carl, it sounded so simple. 

“And besides,” Carl’s voice broke through Rick’s internal struggle, “Daryl seemed really cool. I think the two of you would be good together.”

“It’s not that simple, bud.”

“Yeah, it is,” Carl countered.

“But it’s not,” Rick said gently. “I like Daryl, I do. But we have a… history. And he lives here, five hours away.”

“It is still simple,” he insisted. “If you like him, then you see where it goes. If it goes, then you make it work. Five hours isn’t five days, dad. Besides, you come down here every year. And people make long distance relationships work all the time. Anyway,” he kept going, “you should take it slow, so the distance might actually be good.”

“You done givin’ me relationship advice yet?”

“You’re gonna call him tonight right?”

“Yes,” Rick drew the word out, exasperated and sounding more like a teenager than his son.

“Ok, then I’m done,” Carl smiled. Thankfully, the waiter brought their food and they started to eat. Carl didn’t bring the subject of Daryl, but Rick couldn’t help but wonder if Carl was right. Maybe it was simple.

~~~

Rick sat on the balcony and stared at the contact in his phone. He took a deep breath, forced himself to stop overthinking everything, and pressed the button. He put it up to his ear and only had to listen to two rings before it was answered.

“Hey there, Hazel Grace,” Daryl answered.

“Ah now, I wish you’d forget that,” Rick groaned. “Why do I gotta be the girl in the situation?”

“Told ya I remember everythin’. And to answer yer question, it’s cause you spent the past year obsession’ about why you didn’t text me back.”

“Have I made up for it yet?” Rick asked in a teasing tone, but he was also completely serious.

“Yer gettin’ there,” Daryl allowed. “How was dinner?”

Rick sighed. “My son proved yet again that he’s smarter than I give him credit for.”

“Oh yeah?”

“He basically told me to stop overthinkin’ everythin’. And… that it’s… simpler than I made it out to be.”

“Not everythin’s gotta be complicated, Rick,” Daryl answered softly.

“It just seemed that way… last year.”

“Well, I was a bit of a mess last year,” Daryl admitted.

“How are you now?” Rick asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

“Much better. Dale left me the house.”

“Really? Daryl… that’s awesome!”

“Yeah,” the other man agreed. “I’ve changed a few things since you were here last, nothin’ drastic though.” There was a beat of silence and then Daryl started talking like he just couldn’t help himself. “He left me the house and his old Chevy, which is nice so I don’t gotta drive the bike in the rain.”

“Sounds like he thought of everything,” Rick observed with a soft smile. It was nice to hear Daryl talk about Dale that way. He sounded much more at peace than he did the year before, when the loss of Dale was so fresh. Daryl sounded happy, Rick realized, and it did things to his heart that he hadn’t been expecting.

“So, uh,” Daryl’s uncertainty cut through his musings, “I gotta work tomorrow but do you and Carl have any plans the next day?”

It was on the tip of Rick’s tongue to rattle off his usual itinerary; he did the same thing every year, after all. But something held him back. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe, he smiled, it was just Daryl.

“Nothin’ that can’t be changed. Why do you ask?”

“Cause,” Daryl smirked like a little shit, Rick could hear it even through the phone, “I’mma show you how to follow through on a date, Grimes.”

Rick laughed so loud, Carl stuck his head out the door to tell him to be quiet.


	9. 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I am so so sorry this took me so long to finish. Not only was it a stubborn chapter, but life came and kicked me in the butt this month. So writing has been a struggle. I'm not sure when I'll have the next one up, but I'm just going with the flow these days. I literally just finished writing this, so it's probably full of mistakes, sorry bout that. But I hope you enjoy it and now here's some fun stuff to thank you for your patience ;)

_He won’t let me drive_ , the text popped up on Daryl’s phone accompanied with a sad face emoji.

_I can’t help you if you let your own kid bully you into the passenger seat_ , he replied but he smiled as he did it.

_Did you get the passes?_

_Yes, mom_ , Daryl sent back with the eye roll emoji.

_That’s not even remotely sexy_ , Rick sent back.

_I wasn’t trying to be sexy, I was trying to point out how ridiculous you are. Yes, Rick. I got the passes and I got the next five days off but I haven’t packed a bag yet. Did that answer all your questions?_

Rick sent back another sad face, which was quickly followed up with: _You don’t gotta be all snarky._

Daryl smiled and tried to soothe his… whatever Rick was. _I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to be rude. If it makes you feel better, I was smiling when I sent that. I was trying to be funny._

_Ok. That does make me feel a little better._

Daryl bit at his thumb nail before typing again. It was a little slow going; he still wasn’t quite used to the iPhone, but it was worth it. He finished the message and hit send before he could second guess himself.

_I’m excited to see you. I’ve missed you._

The answering text came in only half a beat later.

_I’ve missed you too._

He didn’t reply to that. Instead, he got dressed, ate a quick breakfast and hopped on his bike to go to work. It was his last day before his vacation time started, lined up with the specific intention of spending it with Rick and Carl. But honestly, he should have just taken that day off too. Work was the furthest thing from his mind.

After a full year of text messages, phone calls, and FaceTime sessions (once Daryl upgraded his phone), he was finally going to see Rick again. When Rick left the Gulf with Carl last year, he made only one promise to Daryl, that he’d be back the same week the next year. There were no obligations, no labels, no pressure and even though they weren’t really… a thing, they were a thing. 

Daryl rubbed the back of his hand across his face, a nervous habit that had even Glenn looking at him with a raised brow. He just shook his head, not really wanting to talk just then. Glenn and T knew what was going on, had heard about Rick Grimes ever since he ran into the man and his son on the beach last year. He’d been so angry that day, seeing him again. But listening to him on the beach, stammer out his reasons so honestly… Daryl never heard someone be honest the way Rick was. He’d been that way the night they got drunk together too, he remembered. And Rick’s reasons, even if they were a little weak, were actually valid.

“He comin’ back today?” T-Dog interrupted his thoughts and Daryl looked up to see his boss leaning against the door frame of the office with his arms crossed.

“Should be here tonight,” Daryl answered, but the words were heavy and he ended up sitting on the hard concrete. 

“You have any trouble outta that asshole, you let me know,” T said and Daryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Things with Rick had been good for the past year. Yeah, they hadn’t seen each other; yeah, he had a lot of questions; yeah, he was worried about what was going to happen. But still, they were good. Daryl felt like he had someone to talk to, someone to lean on when the days got hard. And if he longed to be in Rick’s arms like some lovesick teenage girl, that was his own fucking business.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, T, but thanks,” he huffed out. 

“Why don’t you just take the rest of the day,” he offered and Daryl wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yeah, think I will. Let me know how the kid does, ok?”

“Will do,” he said as he offered Daryl a hand and lifted him off the floor. They both looked over and saw Glenn showing their new employee, Zach, where they kept certain tools. As they walked to another shelf, Glenn slipped in a oil puddle, Zach tried to catch him, and they both hit the floor hard.

“Now I know why Dale had so much insurance,” T-Dog sighed as he shook his head.

“Man, I am so sorry.”

“No your not,” T countered.

“No, I’m not,” Daryl grinned back at him.

~~~

When Daryl got home, he kept himself busy and refused to look at his phone. He showered with determination, basically scrubbing a layer of skin off. Then, he packed a small duffel bag with a few changes of clothes, his swim trunks, tooth brush, etc. And then, when he still wasn’t feeling settled, he cleaned the house. It wasn’t bad, just enough to keep him occupied for a little bit.

He was washing the dishes when his phone started ringing. Of course his hands were covered in soapy water so he hurried to dry them off and answered his phone doing his damnedest to make them stop shaking.

“Hello?”

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Rick’s voice came through the phone and Daryl blushed, happy that Rick couldn’t see it.

“Hey,” he drew the word out as he looked for the next thing to say. “Y’all make it ok?”

“I think I may have lost ten years of my life,” Rick said with a weak chuckle, it sounded as though he was sitting down heavily in a chair. “But we made it.”

“You set a bad precedent last year, lettin’ him drive after he got his permit,” Daryl fussed.

“I know, I know. Remind me next year to not do that again.”

“I’ll do my best,” he replied, grinning like a loon. Just thinking about them being… whatever they were next year, made his heart flutter. No not flutter, that was reserved for lovesick yuppies only. But… dammit ok, it did flutter a bit.

“You gonna head over here?” Rick asked him hopefully.

“You ready for that?” Daryl bit his lip.

“Hell yeah I am,” Rick answered with enthusiasm. 

“Be there in just a few then,” he promised. “Will you text me the room number?”

“You got it. See you soon, Daryl,” Rick finished in a small, but excited voice. Daryl ended the call and smiled down at his phone. Then he came to his senses, grabbed his bag and practically ran from the house to get on his bike.

It was really just over two miles from his house to Rick’s condo but it felt like forever. They’d been talking about this trip since Christmas and Daryl couldn’t believe that it was finally happening. 

Last year, he worked most of the week that Carl and Rick were there. After the radio silence he’d experienced the year before, he thought it was best to work and stay distracted. He’d known what week it was, of course he did, and he definitely hadn’t counted on seeing Rick’s son on the beach. But one thing led to another, and Daryl made good on his promise to take them both on that date Rick had asked him on so long ago. He took them to The Track and the three of them spent the whole day there, driving the go-carts, splashing each other with the bumper boats. They spent more money than he cared to admit on games and then finished the day with a spectacular round of mini-golf. And by that, he meant that he and Rick lost spectacularly to a fifteen year old. That had been the only full day he’d managed to take off. He was able to eat dinner every night with the both of them, though, and the week passed too quickly, not enough time spent to make up for what could have been. There had been some kissing, some hand holding, a lot of quiet apologizing, and only the agreement that they would talk constantly after Rick and Carl went back to Georgia. 

And they did. Rick called every day, they texted constantly, especially after Christmas when Daryl broke down and bought an iPhone. Which was definitely worth it, since Rick asked Daryl to spend the week of his vacation together the first time they attempted FaceTime. That was the only good thing that happened during that first video call; Daryl dropped the phone, Rick wouldn’t stop moving, and they both managed to hit the end button at different points of the conversation. But they got better, goodness knows they had plenty of opportunities to practice. 

Daryl tried to control his nerves as he parked his bike in the lot across the street, and then crossed quickly before making his way inside and to the elevator. He checked his phone for the room number and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor. The elevator ride was the longest and shortest of his life and walking down the hall to the right room felt more like an out of body experience. He bit his lip and hesitated just a second before knocking on the door. He barely lowered his hand before the door was wrenched open and Rick flew out of it.

“You’re here!” He exclaimed as his arms encircled Daryl’s neck. He let himself be pulled into the hug and returned it without a thought. It was just… right, being there in Rick’s arms. It was like coming home after a really long trip and the tension Daryl didn’t even realize was there melted away and he almost sagged against Rick. “You’re here,” Rick whispered the words this time and they both tightened their arms around each other.

_I am so fucked_ , Daryl thought to himself as the seconds stretched on. He thought they might actually stay like that until the end of the night, embracing each other to make up for all their missed opportunities. But of course, there was a teenager to take into account.

“Is that Daryl?” Carl’s voice came from somewhere inside the condo and Daryl and Rick jumped apart like they’d been caught naked or something. Rick cleared his throat and stood aside to let him in.

“Yeah,” Rick answered him and to Daryl it sounded like a knee jerk reaction. They finally got in and Rick closed the door just as Carl came out from one of the front bedrooms. His hair was longer than it had been the last year but he was grinning ear to ear when he saw Daryl.

“Daryl!” The boy yelled out before giving him a big hug.

“How ya doin’, Carl?” Daryl asked him, hugging back briefly before they both let go.

“Great! Dad let me drive down here!”

Rick groaned and Daryl chuckled a bit. “That’s not the way I heard it,” Daryl drew the words out slowly and turned to look at Rick with a raised eyebrow. Rick just shook his head and two of them moved on into living area of the condo.

“I’m gonna go to the beach for a walk dad!” Carl yelled out as he headed back to his bedroom.

“Take your phone!”

“Yessir!”

Daryl put his bag down on the couch as he heard a flurry of activity from the front bedroom and then Carl threw out a quick “Bye!” before the door opened and closed again. He didn’t even have a time to take a breath between the time the door closed and the time that Rick’s lips met his. The contact startled him at first but he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around Rick’s waist. Rick had one hand on the back of his head, the other on the small of his back and they were soon pressed so tightly together, it was hard to tell where Rick ended and Daryl began. 

There was an urgency to the kiss, a sense of an unending hunger to the way Rick’s lips moved against his and he couldn’t help but respond in kind. He was so focused on kissing the man with everything he had, he didn’t realized his feet were moving backwards, that Rick was gently pushing him, until he heard a door slam. He jumped and pulled back a bit.

“Just closin’ the door,” Rick whispered, his voice husky with desire. He moved his lips to Daryl’s throat and kept pushing until Daryl felt the bed behind his legs.

“Rick,” he moaned, moving his chin so that the man in question could keep up his assault on Daryl’s skin. Rick’s kisses were glorious, just on the right side of rough that made Daryl itch for more. He sat down on the bed and pushed himself into the middle as Rick followed him. He laid down and Rick settled on top of him.

“God I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Rick whispered before capturing Daryl’s lips again. Daryl arched up against him and gasped when Rick pressed his hips down. He darted his tongue out, just briefly touching Rick’s in a silent invitation to explore as much as he wanted. And he did. Rick pushed back with his own tongue and plundered Daryl’s mouth like it was the only way he was going to reach heaven. Rick carded his fingers through Daryl’s hair, almost reverently and kept rolling their hips together in a slow rhythm that was driving Daryl crazy. He broke the kiss and pulled back and they stared into each other’s blue eyes before Daryl spoke.

“We shouldn’t do this now, Rick,” he said, but his words sounded sad, mournful even, that they couldn’t finish what they started. It wouldn’t be wise, when Carl could come back any second. 

“It’s ok,” Rick soothed, “we don’t have to do anything. I just… I couldn’t stop myself.” He leaned down and kissed Daryl again. Their lips moved together like they’d been doing it for years, instead of minutes and Daryl got that gut feeling of right again. It was just right with Rick, perfect, meant to be, stars aligned or whatever. He pushed up again, regardless of what he just said. He wanted Rick, want to feel him everywhere and there were suddenly too many clothes. 

Daryl broke the kiss and grabbed the bottom of Rick’s tshirt, pulling it up and over his head before reach down and unbuttoning his shorts. Rick chuckled and broke his focus.

“What happened to shouldn’t do this now?” He grinned from ear to ear as he asked and sat up, pulling Daryl with him. He clutched the back of Daryl’s tshirt and pulled it off too.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Daryl grunted as he flopped back down on the bed. Rick started kissing him again, but this time he attacked his jaw, then his neck. He moved down and nibbled at Daryl’s collarbone, then the hollow of his throat. He felt Rick’s lips move further down and then latch on to his right nipple. He had to let go of Rick’s arm to slap a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan that was about to come out. And that bastard chuckled before moving to the left one. “I hate you,” he moved his hand just enough to get the words out before sealing it back over his lips.

“No you don’t,” Rick answered wisely. Daryl shook his head, unable to form words when he felt Rick’s tongue swirl around and around, until the little nub peaked under the attention.

_God, no I don’t_ , he managed to think. Rick chose that moment to pull off and move back up his body. He ran one hand over Daryl’s head in a gentle caress, the other he pulled Daryl’s hand away from his face to uncover his lips.

“We should probably stop,” he whispered gently, leaning down to kiss him with the utmost care and devotion. Daryl sighed and pushed his hips up against Rick. He could feel just how much Rick was affected by their contact.

“That’s yer fault, ya know.”

Rick groaned and dropped his head to Daryl’s shoulder. “I know and I take full responsibility for it.”

“You gonna do somethin’ about it later?”

“Can you wait till Carl goes to bed?”

“Rick,” Daryl’s tone made Rick look up and Daryl gave the man an unimpressed look, “your son is sixteen, if we wait until he goes to sleep, we’ll have grey hair.”

“Not to sleep,” Rick whined, “once he goes to bed, he doesn’t come back out. We can sneak in here and he won’t be the wiser.”

“Talkin’ about this should not be sexy-”

“But it kinda is,” Rick smirked at him. “It’s the sneakin’ around, innit?”

“Yeah, it is,” Daryl agreed before he leaned up and crushed his lips against Rick’s. The other man was distracted enough that he never saw it coming when Daryl suddenly flipped them over and had Rick flat on his back. “Ha,” he grinned triumphantly at the shocked look on Rick’s face.

~~~

“So, you and dad have any plans tonight?” Carl asked, a little too casually, as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen. It was the third day of Rick and Carl’s trip. 

The day before they’d been to The Track but today the three of them had spent the whole day on the beach. They were all a little sunburnt and Daryl knew Rick was currently in the bathroom, slathering lotion all over himself that he swore was better than aloe vera gel. Daryl would believe it when he saw it.

“Uh, don’t think so,” he answered, as he pushed the eggs around the skillet. It was dinner time but they decided on breakfast for the meal, since that was the one fool proof meal Daryl could cook. He regretted the offer of cooking after they got back from the beach as soon as Carl rounded on him with what was most definitely a fake innocent act. 

“Well... you know... if you wanted to-”

Daryl turned to him, one hand holding the spatula, the other on his hip. “Out with it, Carl. Cut the bull.” He barely managed to stop himself from saying the full word, but he figured it wouldn’t be good to cuss in front of the kid.

“Just thought the two a you could go back to your place for the night,” Carl mumbled, looking down and turning so red Daryl thought his face might melt off.

“You tryin’ to kick us out so you can throw a wild party or somethin’?”

“No!” Carl was quick to say, a hand held out, almost in surrender. “I just…” he ran that hand through his dark hair, so unlike Rick’s, Daryl assumed it had to be from his mother, “Dad just… did nothin’ but talk about you all the way down here and I know that if y’all wanted some time… ya know,” his blush deepened, “alone… kinda hard to do that here with me.” Carl looked so embarrassed but Daryl had to hand it to him, the kid cared about if his dad was happy or not.

Other than that first day where they had the intense make out session while Carl was out on the beach, Daryl and Rick hadn’t done anything further. Unfortunately they learned later that night, the bed in the master bedroom was the creakiest bed known to mankind. Either they hadn’t noticed it before, or their movements were tame enough to keep the squeaks at bay, it didn’t matter. Their planned activities were a lot more vigorous and completely out of the question with Carl in the condo. It was too loud, so both of them went to bed a little disappointed. But they fell asleep side by side, which was much better than the alternative. They’d just waited so long, they didn’t want to wait anymore. 

Daryl turned back to the stove and bit his lip, unsure of what to say. He was fighting a blush of his own and he ducked his head on the pretense of checking the eggs. It was a good thing that he’d turned when he did. They were done and if he didn’t take them out of the pan they’d be eating burnt eggs for dinner.

“Carl I-” He started, with no idea where he was going but thankfully he didn’t have to know.

“Smells good,” Rick called as he walked out of the bedroom he and Daryl had been sharing. Daryl jumped and spilled eggs on the floor and Carl stammered out a “H-h-hey Dad,” in what definitely wasn’t an innocent voice. Daryl couldn’t stop the blush as he cleaned up the eggs; they might as well have been caught robbing someone’s grandmother for all the guilt that was in Carl’s voice. Daryl couldn’t stay on the floor much longer and he straightened up, seeing exactly what he expect to see: Rick looking back and forth between the two of them with narrowed eyes and that tilt to his head he had when he was trying to figure something out. “What’s goin’ on?” He immediately asked. Ever the cop, Daryl rolled his eyes, getting to the bottom of it at the first opportunity. 

“Just wanted to know what your plans were,” Carl mumbled. 

“What plans?” Rick asked.

“Ya know,” Carl turned red again, “plans.”

Daryl took a deep breath and spoke before he could stop himself. “Yer son thinks we need to go to my house so we can have sex.”

“W-w-what!” Carl sputtered and choked, trying and failing several times to cobble a sentence together, while Rick was busy doubled over in the doorway laughing hard enough to have trouble breathing. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Daryl called ignoring both Grimes men as his face finally flamed when he thought a little bit more about what he just said. He brought all the plates to the table and then went and got drinks.

“Go sit down, Carl,” he heard Rick chuckle and then suddenly the man in question was behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist as he looked into the fridge. “Do you wanna?” He whispered in Daryl’s ear. He was pressed against Daryl’s back and Daryl knew that if Carl was at the table, they were partially hid from his view by the fridge door.

“Is it a good idea?” Daryl asked and if his voice was a little more breathless than he wanted, he knew Rick wouldn’t make him admit to it.

“I think he’d be fine here,” Rick replied with a little nip to his ear. “Let’s eat. We’ll talk more about it after dinner.”

“Deal.” He moved away from the shelter of the fridge and closed the door before moving tot he table. Carl was digging in to his food, obviously trying to not pay attention to Rick and Daryl, which Daryl was fine with. They ate with little conversation and finished quickly. Daryl gathered up the plates and set them in the sink. He caught Rick’s eye and jerked his head to the balcony. Rick nodded subtly, closing his eyes briefly. 

Daryl made a hasty retreat outside and closed the sliding door all the way to keep from hearing whatever Rick and Carl were talking about. His hands twitched to his pocket, even though he’d quit right after Dale died. It’d been years since he’d had a cigarette but damn he wanted one. He leaned over the railing, listening to the waves and watching the sky darken. He didn’t know how to navigate this and he didn’t want to be that person but he couldn’t let Rick leave this year without getting some answers to the questions tumbling around in his brain. 

Daryl was brought out of his brooding by the sound of the door opening. He turned and saw Rick smiling as he closed the door behind him. He walked over and matched Daryl’s pose, leaning over the railing but their shoulders were touching.

“So Carl said to tell you, he hates you,” Rick informed him with a huge smile.

Daryl snorted, “I really shouldn’ta said it. Couldn’t help myself.”

“I thought it was hilarious.” 

“Yeah, we both saw,” Daryl shook his head and looked out over the water. “So what now?”

“Let me take you home,” Rick whispered, the words full of promise. 

“You sure?”

Rick leaned over and captured his lips in the softest kiss he’d ever experienced. “Absolutely.”

“What about Carl?” He asked, cause he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Carl will be fine. I trust my kid.”

“Famous last words,” Daryl muttered.

“He’s not gonna leave the condo. He’ll be fine,” Rick assured him.

“I’m tellin’ you, he’s gonna get inta somethin’.”

“I’m not all that worried about what he’s gettin’ into and more worried about what I’m about to get into,” Rick winked and Daryl blushed. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he straightened and offered his hand, “I’ve kept you waitin’ too long.”

Daryl considered him for a moment, then stood up, and took Rick’s hand. “Bout damn time you figured that out.”

~~~

Daryl tried to unlock the door, feeling Rick crowding against his back and breathing hot in his ear. He fumbled with the key when Rick pressed his lips to his neck and barely managed to hold onto it.

“Rick,” he breathed, “I gotta open the door.”

“So open it,” Rick chuckled.

“Kinda hard when yer suckin’ on my neck,” he huffed, tried again, and finally managed to get the key in the lock.

“Aw, do I distract you?” Rick asked as he pulled back a bit so that Daryl could open and then walk through the door. He turned around, grabbed the collar of Rick’s shirt and pulled him through the door before slamming it shut.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ tease,” Daryl answered forcefully before crashing their lips together. Daryl didn’t waste any time but opened his mouth and let Rick in with a quiet gasp. He was instantly rewarded with Rick’s tongue against his and he took and tasted with no restraint. His arms wrapped around Rick’s waist and he felt arms wrap around his neck. Rick walked forward, pushing Daryl back until he hit a wall, but he couldn’t care, couldn’t feel the pain. Rick’s hands were wandering up his neck and into his hair. Fingers tangled into the strands of his too long hair and tugged gently. They broke the kiss with a gasp and Daryl moved with Rick’s hands.

Rick attacked his newly exposed throat with so much force, Daryl knew he’d leave bruises. But the thought made him moan as Rick nipped and sucked at his skin.

“Rick,” the name came out breathy and desperate. “Rick, please.” His hips moved forward of their own volition. He was hard, just from a little bit of kissing, and that thought made him blush. Rick’s hand came down and rubbed his cheek, like he could blot out the blush just from the touch and then he very deliberately rolled his hips forward to meet Daryl’s. Daryl let his head fall back to the wall with a thunk. Even covered, the feeling of Rick’s erection pressing against his was a glorious feeling. Memories of their drunken night together flashed through his mind and even though the contact was wonderful, it wasn’t enough. This time, Daryl would have all of Rick. “Bed. Please?” He was barely able to get the words out, but Rick understood. Rick understood everything. 

“Lead the way, darlin’,” he instructed as his hand dropped and he stepped away from Daryl’s body, leaving enough room between them so that Daryl could peel himself away from the wall. He grabbed Rick’s hand and led him through the house to his bedroom. It was the room that used to be Dale’s and he was momentarily grateful that he got rid of that bed and bought a nice, new, king-sized bed, instead of keeping the old one. But he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on Rick.

Who at the moment was pawing at the hem of his tshirt with fumbling fingers. Daryl chuckled a little and turned back around so they were almost chest to chest again.

“Need some help, baby?” He asked coyly.

“God, yes, please,” Rick begged, “I just want to get you naked.”

“I see how it is, Grimes,” he teased as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. “You just wanna get in my pants. After all this time, that’s all you’s been after.”

But Rick didn’t answer. He looked into Daryl’s eyes, so seriously. Daryl thought he could fall and drown in Rick’s eyes and do it happily. But now, there was something in them, something he didn’t know how to name. He knew his teasing fell flat in Rick’s ears and there was something much more meaningful in his head.

“Rick, what-” But he didn’t get to ask the question he actually had no words for. Rick attacked his lips with much more fervor than before. Daryl couldn’t even gasp a breath before Rick’s tongue plunged into his mouth, taking and giving everything they both had. 

Daryl met his enthusiasm and gripped the back of his neck with one hand, the other sliding down over his side to the top of Rick’s shorts. His fingers moved slowly to the button and he undid it, almost lazily. He was still so focused on just kissing Rick but in the back of his head, he knew he wanted to see him, touch him, be with him. And god knew their clothes were so in the way. 

After the button came undone, his fingers moved to grip the zipper, which he slid down easily. He backed up to the bed and pulled Rick with him. Their lips moved together until he hit the edge of the bed and broke their kiss as he sat down. He could feel Rick looking down at him and Daryl looked up to meet his gaze. Rick still had that serious, weighty look in his eyes and Daryl found himself mirroring it. There was no more teasing, no jokes or sarcasm. It was the moment they’d been waiting for and it seemed like nothing could break the gentle tension they’d created.

Daryl slowly dipped his hand below the waistband of Rick’s shorts. Rick reached down and grabbed his own shirt and pulled it up over his head but Daryl made no move to take the shorts off. His fingers found the tight skin over Rick’s hipbone and he rubbed circles across it with his thumb. Rick grabbed his other hand and brought it up to his lips. First, he kissed each knuckle. Then, he flipped Daryl’s hand over and kissed his palm before bringing them back down and pushing Daryl’s hand under his shorts and his boxers, until Daryl was brushing his fingers against Rick’s cock. 

Daryl wrapped his fingers around the hard length and with his other hand, stopped his gentle caressing so that he could rip both garments off and out of the way.

“Yes, Daryl. God, please,” Rick breathed as he stepped out of his clothes, gloriously naked in front of Daryl. 

“How ya wanna do this, Rick?” Daryl asked on a whisper of breath as he moved his hand slowly up, then down Rick’s cock.

“How do you?” Rick answered with a question as he pushed a hand through Daryl’s hair. 

“I asked you first,” he countered. 

“Tell me what you want, Daryl,” Rick insisted. “Anything you want, it’s yours. Anything,” the word was quiet but so full of everything Rick wouldn’t or couldn’t say. Daryl saw it in his eyes, he meant every word; he could ask for the moon and Rick would at least bring him a few stars. 

“I want you inside of me.”

“God, yes.” He let go of Rick as the other man pushed his shoulders back and he moved up the bed. When he was halfway up, Rick climbed on and grabbed Daryl’s shorts, unbuttoning them quickly and as Daryl slid up the bed, he pulled the shorts off him and threw them to the floor. 

Rick crawled the rest of the way up and Daryl opened his legs, inviting him in. He settled and their cocks brushed together lightly when he pushed down. Daryl arched his back and moaned loud enough to echo through the house and Rick, the bastard, pushed down again, making the contact more deliberate. He grinned down at Daryl, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“‘M gonna change my answer if you don’t stop teasin’,” Daryl threatened.

“Supplies?” Rick just asked, all innocent.

Daryl rolled his eyes, “Bedside drawer.” But then he bit his bottom lip, hesitating. Rick was about to move but stopped when he saw Daryl’s face.

“What is it, baby?” He brushed his knuckles against Daryl’s cheek as he asked.

“I got condoms, but…”

“But what?”

“I went and got tested last month,” he admitted. “I’m clean, Rick, so if you don’t wanna-“ but he couldn’t finish his statement. Rick swooped down and captured his moving lips in another breathtaking kiss.

When he finally pulled away, Daryl was gasping and searching his face for the reason for Rick’s reaction. “I got tested too. I’m clean and there’s no one else.” The words were so sincere, Daryl knew he wasn’t just talking about sex. And that realization almost took his breath away.

“Not for me either, Rick,” he whispered sincerely, if a bit fearfully. And he didn’t want to admit it, but he was afraid. Afraid of taking this next step, afraid of what it meant. Afraid that Rick wouldn’t be satisfied, with the sex or with their weird relationship. Afraid that he was falling deeper and wouldn’t be able to pull himself out if things ended between them. 

“Shh, it’s ok,” Rick soothed and Daryl bit his lip in consternation. Was he really that transparent to the man? Could he never hide from his perceptiveness?

“Rick”, he pleaded, unable to do anything else.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he assured Daryl before peppering little kisses on his jaw, then his neck. Daryl moved his head to give him better access but he didn’t stay there long. He kept traveling down, lips fluttering over each collarbone, stopping only when he reached a nipple. Which he then took between his teeth and nibbled on gently. Daryl keened at the sensation but Rick let go before the sound stopped coming from his throat, laving over the little nub with his tongue in a soothing gesture. He moved to the other side and repeated the movements before continuing his journey south. 

Daryl was panting by the time he placed a kiss to his belly button and moaned when Rick moved to his hip and then nibbled a little bruise there. It was like the man couldn’t taste him enough. Like Daryl was the last meal he’d always wanted and was determined to savor every single bite. 

He moved to the other hip and kissed and sucked a bruise there as well, before nosing his way to the dark curls that surrounded Daryl’s cock. He took a deep breath before placing a kiss on the flesh at the base. Daryl was going to beg, plead with him to open his mouth, just a bit. But he never got the chance.

Rick’s kiss evolved as he opened his mouth and slid his tongue from the base to the tip of Daryl’s cock, before slowly swallowing him down.

“Rick!” Daryl did his best to not buck his hips up into the sinful hot heaven that was Rick’s mouth. He felt more than heard his smug chuckle and he fisted the sheets below him to try to hold his composure. “Fuck, Rick,” he moaned. It didn’t take long for Rick to reach the base of his cock, his lips stretched around him and his nose rubbing against the hair there for a moment before he began moving back up at a tortuously slow speed. When he reached the tip, he pulled all the way off, pressed a sweet kiss to the flesh, and looked up at Daryl.

“Can you reach the lube, sweetheart?” He asked, his voice just a little bit rough. 

Daryl scrambled to reach the bedside table, but also tried to be careful and not kick Rick in the process. His hand fumbled with the drawer, finally wrenched it open, and grabbed the brand new bottle of lube. By the time he rolled back onto the bed, there was a pillow resting where his hips had been. He settled on it and looked back at Rick, who was watching him with dark eyes. He passed him the lube and relaxed into the mattress.

“Hold your legs up for me, baby,” Rick instructed softly and Daryl shivered before doing as he was told. He felt exposed, naked in so many ways, but the way Rick looked at him, he couldn’t be afraid of it. He may be laid bare, but he also couldn’t be more cherished and appreciated in that moment. 

Rick opened the lube and squeezed a generous amount right on Daryl’s skin. He hissed at the cold but Rick’s fingers were immediately there to warm it up. He didn’t press in right away, just rubbed circles around that tight ring of muscle while Daryl took deep breaths. Four breaths later, Rick started slowly pushing in with one finger and it was all Daryl could do to hold his trembling legs still. It felt so good as the finger moved all the way inside of him.

“How long’s it been, baby?”

“God, Rick, do I gotta answer that?” He would but he didn’t want to tell Rick that he hadn’t had sex in years; it was too embarrassing.

“Shh, course not, you ain’t gotta tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna,” Rick’s voice was full of arousal and Daryl loved hearing his southern accent get even thicker. He moved his finger out before slowly moving it back in. He did it again, but this time plunged a second finger in alongside the first and Daryl moaned at the stretch. It was so much. It was not enough.

Rick brushed the tips of his fingers against Daryl’s prostate and he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to the spark of bliss. His back arched and he ground down against Rick’s hand.

“Rick, yes, please.”

“You like that, baby?”

“Fuckin’ hell,” was all he managed to get out. Rick started alternating between scissoring him open and rubbing his prostate enough to drive him crazy. 

He couldn’t think straight, couldn’t lie still, hell he could hardly breathe there was so much pleasure running through him. It was almost too much and he was doing everything he could to hold it back. And Rick saw, Daryl didn’t know how the fuck the man could read him so easily, but he did. He pulled his fingers back, mercifully giving his prostate a break, and out just enough so that he could slip a third finger inside of him.

“Nngg!” was all Daryl managed when he felt the stretch. It hurt, just a little bit, but he took a deep breath and felt his body relax.

“That’s it, Daryl,” Rick soothed him, petting his hip with his other hand. “Just a little bit longer.”

Rick was as good as his word. He stretched and pulled and massaged until he was satisfied and Daryl was a panting, sweating, squirming mess under him. 

Daryl watched as he poured lube in his hand and stroked his own member for just a moment, before rubbing the rest on Daryl and laying on top of him. His cock was   
nudging at Daryl’s entrance and he tried to push down to encourage it inside. But Rick gripped his hip to stop the movement.

“Daryl,” he whispered and then leaned down and caught him in a wild, desperate kiss. He pulled his lips away and Daryl felt him press his hips forward. They both took a deep breath; Daryl couldn’t help his grin when they did it at the same time. But all too soon, his grin slid off his face and his mouth opened in a silent gasp as Rick pushed into him. He felt so much bigger than three fingers and the initial burn was a little overwhelming.

“Talk to me, baby,” Rick demanded as his hand came away from Daryl’s hip to grip his cock loosely and give him something else to focus on. 

“Just… gimme… a minute,” he panted. The head of Rick’s cock was barely inside of him, but it had been so long he knew he couldn’t take any more without getting used to the girth first. Rick started peppering his jaw with light kisses, stroking him lightly. It wasn’t enough to get him off but it was enough for him to focus on, the way Rick held him gently, his hands softer than Daryl would have imagined. He breathed deeply as he looked into Rick’s blue eyes and soon they both felt him relax. 

“Little atta time,” Rick whispered, placing a kiss on his lips before resting his forehead on Daryl’s.

Daryl swallowed thickly and said, “I trust you, Rick.”

Rick groaned and started inching forward into Daryl’s body. It took a little while, with a few starts and stops, but by the time Rick was almost flush with his hips, Daryl pushed down to finish the job. Rick bottomed out with a gasp.

“Fuck, Daryl,” he dropped his head onto Daryl’s shoulder.

“Rick,” he whispered back. He wrapped one arm around Rick’s back, the other he moved to thread his fingers in Rick’s unruly hair. He circled Rick’s hips with his legs, the hold just loose enough for Rick to pull back and slam in again. Which he did, filling Daryl to the brim.

“Rick! Oh god, yes!” Daryl was so glad he didn’t have roommates. There was no way he could hold back every cry, every moan as he gave himself over to Rick. Wholly, completely. If he had any doubts before, they were gone now, completely eradicated in the way their bodies connected and moved together.

Rick lifted his head so that he could kiss Daryl again. It seemed like he wanted them to be connected in every way possible and Daryl was grateful for it. He sighed into the kiss, only to mewl against Rick’s lips when his cock brushed against his prostate on the next thrust. He could feel Rick’s smirk as he did it again, the angle right on target. Daryl was getting close, knew there was no way they could draw it out for much longer, no matter how much he wanted Rick to stay buried inside of him forever.

With one last press of lips, Rick pushed himself upright. Daryl’s arms slid off of him and Rick guided him to hold his legs, which he did so gladly. Then, Rick moved his hand back to Daryl’s cock and started stroking in earnest.

“Rick, I’m gonna- I can’t-”

“I know, baby,” he said in between groans, his voice rough. “Just let go for me. Go on, baby. Let me see it.”

“Oh fuck!” Daryl cried out, pressing his head back into the pillow. Everything was suddenly overwhelming and he pulsed in Rick’s hand, spurting all over it and his   
stomach.

“Daryl!” Rick finally lost any composure he had left when Daryl clenched around him. He fell forward and his thrusts became erratic, chasing his own release. Daryl moaned and tried to push down against him to help, but he was blissed out, so much pleasure making him about as tense as a cooked noodle. He was able to cup the back of Rick’s head as he buried his face in Daryl’s neck. He felt Rick’s cry, low and long, and then the pulse of his cock as he came inside Daryl. Then he too went limp and collapsed on top of him. But Daryl couldn’t be upset about it. He stroked Rick’s back as the last of the aftershocks slowed and then stopped and kept hands on him when he pulled out. Rick tried to sit up, but Daryl wouldn’t let him, his arms tightening and holding him there. So Rick settled with his head just under Daryl’s chin and they lay like that for some time, content in each other.

“Daryl?” Rick whispered, breaking the soft silence.

“Hmm?” He barely managed an answer; he could already feel sleep trying to pull him under.

“I love you.”

But if that didn’t wake him up, nothing else would. His eyes shot open and his breath froze in his chest. Rick felt him tense and picked his head up, worried eyes focusing on Daryl’s wide ones. He swallowed hard enough that Daryl could hear his throat click.

“I’m sorry if it’s too soon. I just-”

But whatever he was, Daryl didn’t let him finish. He pulled Rick back down so he could kiss him senseless. He wasn’t expecting those words to come from Rick. In some ways it was too soon, but in other ways, it should have come long ago. He wasn’t expecting it, but he couldn’t deny the gut reaction, the instinct, screaming at him, that it was ok. That they would be ok. Because Rick loved him.

“I love you too,” he whispered when they broke the kiss and Rick’s answering smile was bright enough to light up the whole city.

~~~

They fell asleep that way, completely ignoring the mess that clung to their bodies and the bed sheets. When Daryl woke up, Rick was still on top of him, but already awake and grinning down at him. They shared a sweet kiss, morning breath be damned, and hopped into the shower together before heading back to Rick’s condo.

They hadn’t been in any kind of hurry, slightly worried about Carl, but not enough to rush. So it was mid morning by the time they made it back and when they walked through the door, they heard a noise coming from the front bathroom.

“Carl?” Rick called, but the same retching sound was the only reply. Rick and Daryl looked at each other, let the front door slam shut and hurried the few feet to the bathroom. Rick opened the door, only to find Carl bent over the toilet, puking his guts out. “Carl! What’s wrong? What happened?” He rushed to his son, who held a hand out to stop him.

“Daaaad,” he groaned, “stop being so loud.”

Daryl huffed a chuckled at those words and walked to the kitchen, where sure enough, he found a bunch of empty beer bottles on the counter. He grabbed one and went back to the bathroom.

“Uh, Rick?” He got the other man’s attention and showed him the bottle.

“Are you hungover?” Rick screeched at him, to which Carl replied by heaving once again.

Daryl tried, truly he did, not to laugh, but it escaped a bit anyway. Rick turned to him and held his finger up.

“Don’t you dare-”

“Told ya so,” Daryl smirked.


	10. Christmas 2016

Daryl was staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, watching the fan turn. No noise, no lights. The moon was bright enough through the blinds and his eyes had adjusted at that point, so he could see the blades. Turn and turn and turn. Round and round and round we go, where we stop, no one knows, he thought.

He and Rick were fighting. Huge fight. Big one. Biggest one they’d had yet, when you didn’t include the whole Merle thing. It could be the one to do it, the one they didn’t come back from. And it would be his fault.

After the week they’d spent together during the summer, they were officially “a thing.” Together. Facebook official. Whatever the kids were calling it these days. And he loved Rick. Daryl loved Rick more than he could possibly say. But what he didn’t love was the distance between them. It grated on him, more so than it had the previous year. He _missed_ Rick. Missed him with every ounce of his being. Sometimes, he missed Rick so badly he felt physically sick from it. But in the months since Rick had been in Gulf Shores, they hadn’t been able to see each other again. There was always something in the way. Work, family, etc. Obligations that wouldn’t be difficult to overcome if they lived five minutes from each other. But that wasn’t their reality and the first few times it had happened, he was ok with it.

But Christmas was different. They were going to see each other again; Rick was going to come down to Gulf Shores and stay with Daryl for seven whole days. They were going to spend New Years together. Daryl had taken off from work and everything. 

But then Rick drew the short straw on manning the intake desk at the county jail, or so he said. Daryl knew Rick’s boss was a dick who would put anything on Rick that he could and Rick would just brush it off. He wouldn’t have to work every day, just enough that he couldn’t make the five hour trip to Daryl.

So he asked Daryl to come to King County instead and spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s at Rick and Carl’s apartment. But it would mean coming into contact not only with Rick’s ex wife, but his ex partner as well. And Daryl was able to forgive Rick for what happened to Merle. He wasn’t so quick to do the same for Shane Walsh.

To make matters worse, Merle was against it as well, just not for the same reason. When he told his brother about the amended idea for the trip, Merle voiced a worry Daryl already had. That going back to King County wouldn’t be good for him. And saying it in his head had sounded like a flimsy excuse. But when Merle spoke it into existence, he couldn’t help but feel validated about it and a little angry that Rick couldn’t be sensitive enough to see it. 

Going back, to him, would be worse than Simba going back to Pride Rock. Facing his past and not even to reclaim something he’d lost. It just wasn’t worth it to him. There were too many ghosts, too many bad memories that he would rather not remember. His life was in the Gulf now. He’d rebuilt it from the ground up. And yeah, Merle was still his family, but he wasn’t his only family. 

On the flip side, Rick was his family now too. And Carl. But Shane and Lori Walsh were most certainly not a part of that life and if he went back, there would be no avoiding them, even if it just was in passing.

What it all boiled down to though, was that he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back. And Rick tried to understand, to a point. But they still came to blows, so to speak, and the last time they spoke on the phone there had been a lot of yelling. 

It made Daryl’s whole body feel heavy with guilt but they were like the proverbial unstoppable force and immovable object. He had no idea who was which, and he didn’t really care. But it was shaping up to be the worst Christmas since Dale died.

Daryl didn’t know how long he lay there, just staring, thoughts circling around faster than that damn fan, when his phone rang. He jumped up so fast to grab it, so of course it fell on the floor. He rolled out of the bed and landed with a thump and an “oomph” but managed to get a hand on his phone and slid the button over without looking at the name of the caller.

“Hello? Rick?”

“Daryl?” Came the last voice he expected to hear. Sounding so young and full of tears, was Carl on the other end of the call.

“Carl? What’s wrong?” His heart started pounding and he felt his blood run cold.

“Dad’s ok,” he was quick to say and Daryl let out the breath he’d been holding. “But something’s happened,” he sobbed out quietly for a second, “with my mom.”

“Oh, Carl.”

“Can you come? Please? I know you and dad’re fightin’ but he needs you here. I-I-I need you here.”

Daryl scrambled to his feet and started throwing everything he could get his hands on in a duffle bag. Rick wasn’t the only person he got close to over the summer. He knew before July that Carl was a cool kid, but the more time he spent with the both of them, the more he wanted to be a part of the little Grimes family. Carl was his father’s son, with his own bright and happy flare and hearing the young man sound so broken, felt like a knife was being wedged between Daryl’s ribs. King County was the last place he wanted to be but now, he couldn’t be anywhere else.

“I’m comin’, Carl. I’m leavin’ right now. Tell me what happened.”


	11. 2017, Part 1

“Did you get the baby sunscreen?” Rick hollard across the too small apartment.

“Got it!” Carl yelled back and Rick heard a thud in the suitcase and he kept gathering things up one handed, while he held ten month old Judith on his hip. They were supposed to leave in half an hour and there was absolutely no way they were going to leave on time. They still didn’t have everything packed, the garbage needed to be taken out, the coffee pot-

Rick groaned when he felt something warm soak through his shirt. Judith’s diaper leaked all over him. It was the final straw. He walked to his bedroom and changed Judith quickly before placing her in the pack ‘n’ play that was shoved into his room and stripped out of his shirt. He sat down heavily on the bed and put his head in his hands. 

Everything was such a mess and he was barely keeping it together. Lori and Shane were gone. Killed by a drunk driver on Christmas Eve, their three month old baby, Judith, the only survivor. It was an absolute miracle. When the fire department and paramedics arrived on the scene, all three adults were dead, both cars were just starting to ignite in flames, and baby Judith was asleep in the back in her pumpkin seat. 

They kept her overnight in the hospital, for observation, and then dumped her in Rick’s arms and left him to clean up the mess that was now his life. At least he could say that Shane and Lori made provisions for their baby girl. And for Carl. There was enough life insurance that Rick was able to bury them both, put Judith in daycare, and make a savings account for both of his kid’s college funds.

Because they were both his children now. Judith might not be his biologically, but she was his daughter. As if they didn’t need anymore proof, that sweet angel called him “Dada” yesterday. He and Carl both burst into tears.

Not that it made anything easier. It just made the more difficult days a little easier to bear.

“Dad?” Carl’s voice and footsteps came from the doorway and Rick lifted his head to see his son standing there with a concerned look on his face.

“Diaper leak,” Rick explained and Carl’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Which made Rick laugh a bit.

“Everything’s packed,” Carl decided to skip the subject and move on.

“You sure?”

“I checked the list three times,” he replied dryly and Judith gurgled some nonsense, as though she was agreeing with her big brother.

“Guess I’m overruled,” he braced his hands on his thighs, trying to find the strength to push himself up from the bed.

“You don’t wanna go?” Carl asked with a head tilt.

_Jesus he is mine, innit he?_ Rick thought before he answered. “No, I do wanna go. I’m just… not looking forward to the drive.”

“You’re lyin’, Dad,” he was super quick to point out. Rick ran a hand over his face in frustration. “Is it me?” 

“Of course not,” Rick exclaimed.

“Is it Judith?” Calr pressed and Rick’s reaction was exactly the same. So then his son asked, “Is it Daryl?”

The question brought Rick up short, because he couldn’t answer in the same way he had to Carl’s other two questions. The truth of the matter was that it wasn’t Daryl. 

It was Rick, but he wouldn’t be so worried if it weren’t for Daryl.

If it weren’t for Daryl, this would be just a regular yearly trip, just with a baby and some grief in tow. But because of his boyfriend, Rick and his little family were going to stay with him. Even with the life insurance policies, Rick was pinching pennies. He wasn’t going to squander that money and there were still bills to pay. So shelling out the big bucks for the condo hurt more than he wanted to admit. Of course, Daryl immediately knew what was going on when Rick started getting evasive about it. So he offered his house to Rick, Carl, and Judith without blinking an eye.

And Rick should have been elated about that. Really, he should’ve. And he shouldn’t have been surprised about it. Daryl spent two whole weeks with them after Lori and Shane died, going above and beyond anything Rick could have imagined of him. But there was a part of him that was scared of this trip now, that was so terrified of all four of them sharing a space that he kept dragging his feet, not packing until the last minute, not answering Daryl every time he called. Things were different now. Rick was a full time dad to a baby and he didn’t know how his boyfriend felt about that now that there was grass over the graves. He was afraid that Daryl wouldn’t want to be apart of his little broken family and that he would finally realize on this trip that he deserved so much better than Rick’s crazy life. It was just a debilitating fear, one that he most certainly wasn’t proud of, but he couldn’t stop it no matter how hard he tried.

“Dad?” Carl got his attention and he looked up at his son, fighting the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. “You know he wouldn’t’ve offered if he didn’t want us there.”

“You gotta stop that,” Rick chuckled wetly as he slowly shook his head.

“Stop what?” Carl asked.

“Readin’ my damn mind,” he smiled.

“Damn!” Judith shrieked and both men turned toward her with wide eyes.

“Aw sh-“

“Dad!” Carl interrupted him with both hands held out to stop the word that was about to come out of his mouth. Rick hung his head as Carl busted out laughing. He looked up in time to catch a shirt in the face and then he started laughing along with his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I am sorry that it's taken me so long to update this and I know this chapter is pretty short. Apparently fighting morning sickness does not lead to a lot of writing inspiration. I'm doing the best I can, but real life and my family comes first. I will update again when I have more content.


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